Dido saw her thoughts, and hating Maurice as one who scoffed at Obi, she did her best to put evil ideas in the girl's head concerning the young man. But as yet she had failed to sow dissension between the lovers.,
"You are tempting Providence, Molly Carter," she exclaimed decidedly. "Don't you know Tom Pollard is nothing but a scatter-brained fly-away? As a husband there'd be no dependence on him. Besides being your cousin, he's younger than you. What do you mean?",
"How she'd have adored mother, if she had only lived," said Elinor softly. "Mother was so lovely. I always feel that you two have been cheated out of so much—not even to have a dim memory of her.",
CHAPTER VIII. A CRY IN THE NIGHT.
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"Nor will you--after midday to-morrow. But you will regret if you do not grant me this interview.",
Judith tossed her head.,
Patricia nodded her quick appreciation. "I wonder how many she has spoken to, in all the centuries?" she mused, her eyes growing wide and absent. "Think of them, Norn—those people who felt her spell and heard the message. What a glorious company!",
"Because I may fail," said Maurice. "Here, Uncle Jen, don't be cross; I'll tell you all about it to-morrow, and then you will see and approve of my silence to-night."
"She may even be able to do that," replied Isabella, seriously. "My mother is afraid of her, and is often influenced in her decisions by Dido."
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They continued to watch the pair, and saw Dido throw herself at the feet of Etwald, who raised his hand over her in a threatening manner. He pointed into the wood with an imperious gesture, and in a slinking attitude the usually stately Dido passed out of sight into the little path down which Isabella had come to meet Maurice. When the gleam of her red dress disappeared Etwald wiped his face and walked briskly up the avenue toward the young couple.
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"I don't know anything about the devil-stick. I never saw it; but with regard to the perfume I can explain. I was ill on that night, as you know, and Dido applied some of her negro remedies; among them the perfume with which that handkerchief of my mother's was saturated. It was bound across my forehead to soothe the nerves. During my journey to your house I snatched it off, and--"
uxcoo-Xu,
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"No," he said, at length. "Mrs. Dallas has had nothing to do with it."
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