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"But you've got to turn in the head-class fee this morning, you know," reminded Patricia, coming back from Italy with a jump. "I have my junk all ready, and I'll tell you when I'm going to spring it on them, so you can have a peep at the fun.",

For a whole week after the events already related, nothing new took place likely to alter the situation. Maurice and David remained coldly polite, and very watchful of one another; neither mentioned the name of Isabella, nor did the one or the other see the girl. Mrs. Dallas took care of that. Acting, no doubt, under the advice of Dido (for she had no will of her own), she kept Isabella within doors, and refused to allow her to communicate with Maurice. But, on the other hand, she did not force her to see David; and Isabella was thankful for the consideration.,

"All right," said Patricia, amiably. "We've had a glorious day anyway, and we'll soon be back here for keeps. I guess I'm not pig enough to grumble. Come on, Judy, we've got to go see Hannah Ann's new hat before we go. I wish she'd left us get it for her. I'm sure it's a fright.",

"Bah! you black parrot!" muttered Maurice scornfully and turned upon his heel. As he vanished down the walk Dido clapped her hands together with great satisfaction and began to sing in low tones. Her song was barbaric in words and strange beyond all telling in the music. It rose and fell, and moaned and drawled, in a curiously painful manner. In the drawing-room Mrs. Dallas had risen to her feet at the first deep contralto note, and now stood rocking herself to and fro with an expression of alarm on her face. Isabella was terrified in her turn by Dido's song and her mother's strange conduct, though by this time she should have been used to these eccentricities.

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"I hope you'll forgive an intruder, Mrs. Carter, but how could a mortal resist a peep into such a fairy garden if he spied the queen and her faun at play?" he said in a voice as wonderful as the smile. By that time I had pushed in all my hairpins. Billy stood spread-legged as near in front of me as he could get, and said, in the rudest possible tone of voice—,

"Yes, sir. I was not quite asleep, but a kind of dozing in my chair. I don't know what it was made me sleepy, as I was wideawake when you left, sir. But there was a kind of heavy, sleepy smell about.",

"'Dear Elinor'—begins well, doesn't it, Judy? I couldn't have done much better myself—'Tom Hughes and I are coming to town next Saturday, and we are going to blow ourselves, for his birthday.' Not very enlightening as to Tom Hughes—never heard of him before; but that's neither here nor there, of course.",

"Oh, Bruce, the sycamore you painted is gone!" called Patricia, not turning. "Come and see!"