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"Why no, Mr. Maurice, I can't say as I did." "I didn't dream those uproarious creatures could be so serious. I wonder where they got that song," she said to herself as she slipped unnoticed out into the twilight of the corridor. "What are you putting up in the garden, Elinor?" asked Madalon, stirring her tea. "I noticed that Henry had a lot of poles planted along the south shrubbery——".

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"Nonsense! I'm her only hope," returned Patricia with spirit. "She won't amount to a row of pins if she goes on this way. Don't you worry about her feelings. She's got sense enough to know I'm right. Come along over to the Academy with me now. The walk will do you good, and I'll feel more respectable with a good-looking escort while I'm lugging this huge thing." Isabella turned pale, for she guessed what was coming. As Etwald had raised his voice purposely, Maurice, who was standing by the tea-table, also pricked up his ears. Mrs. Dallas, with some curiosity, raised herself to look closer at Etwald and he, seeing that his auditory was attentive, prepared to launch his thunderbolt. "My word!" breathed Patricia, stirred and chilled in spite of herself. "They're doing it brown this time!" Battersea whimpered, and, rubbing one dirty hand over the other, did as he was requested with manifest unwillingness. With an intensity of gaze, Dido glared at him steadily, and swept her hands twice or thrice across his face. In a moment or so the tramp was in a state of catalepsy, and she made use of his spellbound intelligence to gain knowledge. There was something terrible in her infernal powers being thus exercised in the full sunlight, in the incongruous setting of a homely English landscape..