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"She's a perfect angel," cried Patricia, her heart warming at the thought of Doris' genuine sweetness of nature. "If Miss Jinny really had known her, she'd been the last to suspect her." "Yes, Mr. Alymer. Must! Must! Must! If you want an explanation of that you can ask--" Here Mrs. Dallas paused with a strange smile and added slowly: "Major Jen." Suddenly Patricia spoke. "It's a horrid mess, and I'm sorry that it had to come out, but there's no use shirking, is there? If someone, no matter who, stole your hat, you'd feel they should be brought to justice. Isn't stealing an idea a lot worse? I don't really think you ought to feel so badly, Elinor. If Doris Leighton could do such a thing, and then be friends with you afterward, she isn't worth breaking your heart over. I felt badly enough when Ju told me, but I've kept getting madder and madder, as I've seen how she goes on acting her part of kind friend to you.".
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Griffin, who was just behind her, winked solemnly at Patricia and then shook her head sadly, as if to indicate that the monitor was in her opinion hopelessly incorrigible. "M. D.!" said the major to himself. "Margaret Dallas, the mother of Isabella. How did her handkerchief come into the room on that night? And the perfume?" "Yes. I knew her in the West Indies shortly before Isabella was born. It was through knowing me," explained the major, "that she came to this neighborhood and rented The Wigwam. You see, Maurice, I was one of the few people she knew in England, and she remained near me for company's sake, and"--here the major hesitated--"and because she was afraid of herself," he finished significantly. "Yis," said the negress, coldly; "de great massa told me to do dat.".
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