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"I wonder what Miss Jinny will say to a costume?" Patricia said, her bright face clouding with the thought. "Oh, Bruce, the sycamore you painted is gone!" called Patricia, not turning. "Come and see!" "Neither did I, if I remember rightly," said Etwald, dryly, "Besides, Dido--as you proved--did not steal the devil-stick. However, if you are suspicious of her, go over to-morrow and see Mrs. Dallas. It will be as well to be sure of your ground before making a public affair of it. By the way, I suppose you will have a detective down from London, to sift the affair to the bottom?".
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Upon her Dido exercised a powerful, and it must be confessed, malignant influence. She had fed the quick brain of the girl with weird tales of African witchcraft and fanciful notions of terrestrial and sidereal influences. Isabella's nature was warped by this domestic necromancy, and had she continued to dwell in the West Indies, she might almost have become a witch herself. Certainly Dido did her best to make her one, and taught her nursling spells and incantations, to which the girl would listen fearfully, half-believing, half-doubting. But her residence in England, her contact with practical English folk, with the sunny side of life, saved her from falling into the terrible abyss of African superstition; and how terrible it is only the initiated can declare. It only needed that she should be removed from the bad influence of the barbaric Sybil to render her nature healthy and fill her life with pleasure. "And the pup-pup-pergola, too," added Patricia mischievously. "Ah, you are lenient," replied Etwald, a shade of surprise passing over his features, a surprise which was reflected in the agitated face of David Sarby. "They will approach at different times—not? It will be more better to place them during the first rest.".
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