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Elinor sat down in surprise. "Oh, but I can't," she protested. "I can't sing at all. Miss Pat——" "What kind of a perfume?" Patricia longed to ask a question, but Margaret Howes saved her the necessity..
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"My mother is weak where Dido is concerned," said Isabella, shaking her head. "I think it is the best thing you can do," said Jen, brusquely. "By the way, what has become of Dido?" Margaret Howes glanced at Elinor, as she sat quietly with chin in one pink palm, her brows drawn level and her dark eyes steady and thoughtful. "Of course," returned Griffin, shortly. "She had other reports to make. She usually stays about half an hour, she'll be longer today. Why?".
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