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"It would seem that you suspect Dido or my mother of having something to do with the matter," she remarked coldly.,

"Who taught it to you, sugar-sweet?" I persisted as I poured water in on the frog under his direction.,

Somehow I didn't enjoy dressing to-night for my dinner, and when I was ready I stood before the mirror and looked at myself a long time. I was very tall and slim and—well, I suppose I might say regal in that amethyst crêpe with the soft rose-point, but I looked to myself about the eyes as I had been doing for years. And to-night that Rene triumph made me feel no different from one of Miss Hettie Primm's conceptions that I had been wearing for ages with indifference and total lack of style. I shrugged my shoulder with what I thought was sadness, though it felt a trifle like temper, too, and went on down into the garden to see if any of my flowers had a cheer-up message for me.,

"Don't ask me. Uncle Jen; I can't answer you yet."

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"Molly," he said in the most nonchalant manner imaginable, "we've got a jolly, strolling, German band up at the hotel; and we're going to have an evening's gaiety. Get into a pretty dress, and don't keep me waiting.",

Laurence Jen was a retired major, a bachelor, and the proprietor of a small estate at Hurstleigh, in Surrey. On leaving the service, he decided--not unwisely--that it was better to be a Triton in the country than a minnow in town; and acting upon this theory he purchased "Ashantee" from a ruined squire. Formerly the place had been called Sarbylands, after its original owners; but Jen had changed the name, in honor of the one campaign in which he had participated.,

CHAPTER XXIII. THE RESULT OF THE TRIAL.,

Then just as I had got the first plan well going and was deciding whether to wear the mauve crêpe de Chine or the white chiffon with the rosebud embroidery as a first dose for my friends, a sweetness came in through my window that took my breath away, and I lay still with my hand over my heart and listened. It was Billy singing right under my window, and I've never heard him do it before in all his five years. It was the dearest old-fashioned tune ever written, and Billy sang the words as distinctly as if he had been a boy chorister doing a difficult recitative. My heart beat so it shook the lace on my breast, like a breeze from heaven, as he took the high note and then let it go on the last few words.