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"What is your name, man?" demanded Jen, commencing in the orthodox manner. "Which is, to marry Mr. David Sarby," said Etwald coolly. "In that case I can only hope that the young lady will continue obstinate, as I wish to marry her myself." At this moment the door of the library opened slowly, and Dr. Etwald, calm and composed, appeared on the threshold. Behind him, over his shoulder, peered the pale countenance of David. From the ironical look on the doctor's face it would appear that he had overheard the accusation of the major, and was prepared to treat it with contempt. That such was the case appeared by the first words which issued from his mouth as he faced his accuser..

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A glare from Patricia stopped her, but it was too late. A chorus of laughing voices took up the demand, "A song, Miss Pat!" "Don't be stingy, Kendall Minor; tune up!" "Give us a sample, Miss Pat!" until Griffin, with a bow, offered her arm to the rebellious Patricia and led her, protesting and abashed, to the chair whence Elinor had escaped. Griffin nodded. "Tabby March, you know. The young woman who paints pussies. Used to go here three years ago, before she'd arrived. She was a wild one, I can tell you." Here she waited in the shadow of the fluttering violet arc light, with her eyes fastened to the silent, insensible windows. Ten minutes that seemed ten eternities went lagging by. Tears of disappointment rose to Patricia's eyes and she shivered as the gusts of west wind flung the drops from the saturated trees in a silver shower across the darkened panes. It was clearly impossible to learn anything from so obstinate a creature, so Jen repeated that he would call upon Isabella on the morrow, and dismissed the negress. As she left the room Dr. Etwald followed her, and on his return mentioned casually that he had been giving Dido some instructions as to what was to be done with Isabella..