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"I knew you'd feel just that way about it," said Patricia, relieved and triumphant. "I told them she'd been awfully sweet to us.",

"I!" cried David, starting up with pale cheeks. "I defend you!",

"Where are you going, Kendall?" asked Mr. Hilton as they pushed back their chairs, and stood waiting for the last button on Judith's glove to come to terms. "If you haven't settled on anything special, I'd like to have you all see the new play with me. It's said to be the finest thing in America, and I'm sure your sisters would enjoy it.",

The first breath of spring was in the air, softening the chill of the crowded streets with warming sunshine and a hint of the coming miracle of the yearly resurrection. The shops were filled with the crisp, fresh-tinted goods of the nearing season, and here and there among the smartly dressed women was a modish straw hat brightening the winter furs and velvets. Patricia's cup was full and running over. She had no need for speech with Elinor, but she kept giving her hands quick little squeezes in her muff, while now and again they exchanged swift telegraphic glances of appreciation.

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Dido's fierce black eyes flashed out a gleam of rage, and she cursed Maurice audibly in some barbaric tongue which Isabella seemed to understand. At all events she interrupted the woman's speech with an imperious gesture.,

That's just what I mean—love boiled down and sugared over is apt to get an explosive flavour, and one had better be careful with that kind if one is timid; which I'm not. As I said, also, I am ready for a little more of life, so I read on without fear. And, to be fair, Alfred had well boiled his own last paragraph. It snapped; and I jumped and gasped. I almost thought I didn't quite like it, and was going to read it over again to see, when I saw a procession coming over from Dr. John's, and I laid the bombshell down on the bench.,

"Nonsense! She likes Maurice herself," replied Isabella, uneasily. "Maurice wants our engagement kept quiet for the present, but when I do tell Major Jen and my mother, I am sure neither of them will object.",

"Why not?" returned Patricia, her fingers busy with Sinbad's girdle. "You can't do two things at once, to do them well. I'm commonplace enough to realize that, but you geniuses go on trying to tear yourselves into little pieces, and then howl because you aren't making masterpieces in every department."