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Mrs. Shelly, with a kindly good-night to Bruce, trotted after them, fumbling with her watch pocket.,

"She's rather too collap-y for my taste," volunteered Patricia, gathering up the remains of their repast. "I like the looks of lots of the others far better than hers. Let's ask Miss Margaret Howes about her. No doubt she can tell us what is her secret trouble.",

Judith flushed and tossed her mane with a gratified air. "Oh, they don't think much of me," she rejoined. "They make fun of me lots of times.",

If Tom Pollard wasn't my own first cousin I would have loved him desperately, even if I am a week older than he. He was about the only oasis in my childhood's days, though I don't think anybody would think of calling him at all green. He never stopped coming to see me occasionally, and Mr. Carter liked him. He was the first man to notice the white ruche I sewed in the neck of my old black silk four or five months ago, and he let me see that he noticed it out of the corner of his eyes as we were coming out of church, under Aunt Adeline's very elbow.

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After this enigmatical remark he hurriedly left the room, for the purpose, without doubt, of escaping further questioning. His demeanor completely puzzled Jen, who could not make out the meaning of his conversation. Evidently David knew something which he was unwilling to reveal--something which might lead to the solution of the profound mystery which enwrapped the death of Maurice and the extraordinary disappearance of his body.,

"It's simply heavenly, and I don't know how we got along without it!" she cried, rapturously. "It makes me wild to think of the months we've wasted this fall.",

"Why?" asked Jen, with military brevity.,

In spite of all his conjecturing, the major found himself unable to answer this question. Therefore, like a wise man, he possessed himself in patience until the next morning. Most of the night he passed in the room where poor David was laid out, for he was determined that this time the body should not be stolen. As he pondered during the long and silent hours, he reflected that he had lost the opportunity of forcing Dr. Etwald to say what he had done with the body of Maurice. It had not been found in his house, and, notwithstanding all questioning, Etwald--with his changeless smile--had refused to state where it was.