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If men would just make an end of women's hearts in a businesslike way, it would be so much kinder of them. Why do they prefer to use dull weapons that mash the life out slowly? Everything is at an end for me to-night, and that blow did it. It was a horrible cruel thing for him to say to me! I know now that I have been in love with John Moore for longer than I can tell, and that I'll never love anybody else, and that also I have offered myself to him and have had to be refused at least twice a day for a year. A widow can't say she didn't understand what she was doing, even to herself, but—— My humiliation is complete, and the only thing that can make me ever hold up my head is to puzzle him by—by happily marrying Alfred Bennett—and quick. He pushed a way for them to the group which surrounded the flushed and gracious recipient of the Roberts prize, and before Patricia quite realized how he did it, he had them ensconced with Elinor in a cozy corner of the print room, and had heard the whole story of the stolen design. "I see why Judy is so keen on the fine arts just now," teased David as he dropped into step again. "Lots of material for current fiction, eh, Ju?".

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"Calm down, Miss Pat," she said, with her hand on the knob. "I'm going to corral a few of the elect and put it to them. Brace up and look pleasant by the time I get back." This suggestion came from Isabella, but of it Dido took no notice. Without a word to mother or daughter, who were both in tears, she left the room. In the afternoon she was nowhere to be found, and both Mrs. Dallas and Isabella came to the conclusion that she had fled to avoid being forced into giving incriminating evidence. They fell into one another's arms and were beside themselves with terror. All the evil done by Dido and Etwald seemed likely to fall upon their innocent heads. The day passed delightfully, with morning service at the famous Dr. Arnold's stately church, a specially sociable dinner at home, and a 'bus ride through the crisp sunshine of the afternoon into the snowy outskirts, with a cozy little tea in Miss Jinny's big front room, where they could watch the twilight gather among the bare trees of the park and the lamps sparkle out among the shadows. After supper Mr. Spicer invited them in to see his collection of photographs which he had taken in all parts of the civilized and barbarous world, before the long illness, contracted in the swamps of West Africa, had put a stop to his active, adventurous life as a collector for the University. "It is a fact," insisted Jen. "I have the evidence of Jaggard to prove that Dido was in the room on that night.".