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"She got safely off, and then the model began to look queer, and in a minute she'd fainted. Howes brought her to with a glass of mineral water, and the class broke up. But the model didn't go. After Benton had made a small spicy speech of farewell—he's leaving, can't stand being sassed—she got up on the stand and gave us a bunch of monologues that were out of sight. She used to be on the variety stage until she lost her voice. I tell you, Kendall missed it.",

"I say deep things which you no understan'. Look at ole Dido, you white man.",

Major Jen took Dido by the shoulder, and giving her a good shake, commanded her to be silent. At once the negress--who was evidently acting a part--ceased her outcries, and after casting her eyes significantly at her mistress, stared sullenly at the floor. Mrs. Dallas turned pale at this rapid glance, and was obliged to take a seat to prevent herself from falling. Not a detail of this by-play was lost upon Jen, who saw in the conduct of mistress and servant a confirmation of his suspicions. However, he added nothing to his previous speech, but merely recapitulated--for the benefit of Mrs. Dallas--the points of his accusation against the negress. Dido heard him in silence, but this time she made neither outcry nor denial.,

"Look, Norn, look," she whispered, as Aladdin and his mother, in rustling native embroidered silks, led another Princess of China in bridal procession across the center of the scene, their rich dresses making a bright spot in the shifting medley of color. "She's not half so lovely as you, for all her things are so fine. I wonder who—why, it's Doris Leighton! She never told us what she was going to be; and she knew you were to be the Princess. Isn't it queer?"

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"But why do you suspect Dido?",

Patricia nodded as she held the door wide for Elinor. "Griffin said she'd be ready for us, and Margaret Howes is coming straight down from composition class.",

"It looks like a foreigner, all right," ventured Tom Hughes, and was rewarded for his courage by a flash of passionate gratitude from Patricia's big gray eyes.,

And from then on for hours and hours I was strapped to a torture wheel that turned and turned, minute after minute, as it ground spice and sugar and bridal meats and me relentlessly into a great suffering pulp. Could I ever in all my life have hungered for food and been able to get it past the lump in my throat that grew larger with the seconds? And if Alfred's pudding tasted of the salt of Dead Sea fruit this evening, it was from my surreptitious tears that dripped into it.