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"You found this rich match here," resumed Jen, without noticing the interruption, "in the person of Miss Dallas, already engaged to the late Mr. Alymer." "I don't think so," retorted Isabella, rising. "Of course, I know that he is clever, but as to being great, he isn't known beyond this place." She walked to the end of the veranda, and stood for a moment in the glare of the sunshine. Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her, and she turned toward the negress. "Don't be too hard on your lazy old sister, Miss Pat," she said with a kiss. "I'll promise to go in for it if you won't scold any more. If I disgrace the family, you mustn't cast it up to me.".
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"You all know," Bruce went on, "that I have been trying an experiment of my favorite theory of art education, but very few of you know how it has progressed. And it is to show you the result that I have lured you here today—to crow over some of you, in fact. The canvas I am going to show you was designed, executed as far as it has gone, entirely by Miss Elinor Kendall, a student of hardly more than nine months' study. The subject is the 'Nativity' and it is designed for a chancel in a small church." "I don't particularly wish to learn your Voodoo secrets," answered Jen carelessly. "All I desire to know is why you manufactured that scent with which you saturated a certain handkerchief of your mistress." "Upon my soul!" cried the sultana of the inflammable name. "You're a corker! Do you mean to say, Miss Pat, that this buccaneer is the lady from the rural districts you were spouting about?" "I know no more than you do," said Isabella, with great despondency. "But now. Major Jen, you can understand my not speaking the truth at our last interview.".
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