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"Mr. Bingham will be along presently," said the late Miss Auborn with great composure, arranging her draperies with a careful hand. She was looking remarkably smart and it was evident that the amiable Mr. Bingham had totally eclipsed Art for her. "We only met the Lindleys by chance and Ferdinand had some business to transact that could not wait." "And the room was in darkness--that is, comparative darkness--before then," mused Maurice. "I don't think anyone could have seen the devil-stick unless the lamp was lighted. Was it gone when you lighted up?" "Oh, missy! missy!" wept the negress, getting onto her feet. "It all am a lie, what dat massa say. Poo' ole Dido know nuffin'--do nuffin'. Lordy! Lordy! de big lie.".

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"Not Dido. Oh!" cried Isabella, in a tone of anguish, "it was my mother." In spite of all his conjecturing, the major found himself unable to answer this question. Therefore, like a wise man, he possessed himself in patience until the next morning. Most of the night he passed in the room where poor David was laid out, for he was determined that this time the body should not be stolen. As he pondered during the long and silent hours, he reflected that he had lost the opportunity of forcing Dr. Etwald to say what he had done with the body of Maurice. It had not been found in his house, and, notwithstanding all questioning, Etwald--with his changeless smile--had refused to state where it was. Patricia set her spangled roses twinkling with a nod of comprehension, but she did not pause. 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..