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Patricia thrilled with interest. "You are a prophet of evil, Etwald," said he. "First my poor Maurice, now Miss Dallas." "It was found in these grounds.".
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But Dido was like a upas tree, and the moral atmosphere with which she surrounded Isabella was slowly but surely making the girl morbid and unnatural. Mrs. Dallas, versed in the negro character, half-guessed this, but she was too indolent to have Dido removed. Moreover, strange as it may appear, she was more than a trifle afraid of the negress and her unholy arts. "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?" "Dead!" wailed Isabella, catching at the word, "Maurice dead!" "I'll slip in behind the door screen," she thought, "and see what's going on. Elinor may need me.".
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