edi showed toward late-comers kept her from lingering to hear his
verdict.

In the courtyard she met Miss Ardsley, coming placidly from her
milliner's. "At this most unearthly hour, my dear, because the obstinate
creature refused to make my new hat for 'Varnishing Day' on Friday
unless I gave her a sitting this morning."

Patricia was not at any time much interested in Miss Ardsley's hats, but
now they grew intolerable. She waited for a period in the gentle flow of
criticism on the prevalent modes, and then she boldly broke in.

"I'm sorry I have to go," she said apologetically. "I must tell you,
though, before I fly, that Rosamond Merton is ill with the grippe and
we've sent for the doctor. He's in her room, now, so you'll have to go
right up if you want to see him there."

Miss Ardsley gasped. "Ill with grippe! How--how very annoying. Really, I
was hoping to keep Artemis Lodge free from that taint," she said with a
slightly sharp edge to her gentle tones. "Is she suffering much?" she
added more sweetly, being recalled perhaps by the incredulous expression
in Patricia's very speaking eyes.

"She's very miserable indeed," Patricia returned promptly, determined
not to spare the Directress. "She was in a stupor when I went in to her
this morning, but she's better now. Constance Fellows had been with her
and Miss Tatten has just gone up----"

"Miss Tatten?" began Miss Ardsley in a somewhat vexed tone, which
swiftly changed to a pleased one. "Ah, yes, Miss Tatten. She is most
capable and will do all that is necessary. Thank you so much, my dear,
for telling me of this sad affair. I shall notify Madame Tancredi at
once." And before Patricia could offer to carry the message, she sailed
off serenely to her own quarters, leaving Patricia wasting yet more
valuable time by standing quite still in the middle of the courtyard
staring blankly after her.

"Well!" was all she found voice for as she gathered herself together.
"Well."

Notwithstanding Miss Ardsley's intentions, Patricia told Madame Tancredi
of her favorite pupil's illness and was gratified at the warmth of her
solicitude. She carried home from her lesson a strong impression that
Rosamond must be a very remarkable person indeed to call forth such
expressions of regret from her teacher.

"I shouldn't wonder if she were going to be a great opera singer like
Madame Milano," she thought, somewhat awed by this high fate for
Rosamond, and she went to the sick room w