?"

"Some time ago. It doesn't matter, does it? I had a letter from Jessica
Bremner to-day. She asks me to come at once. It's in this bag somewhere.
I declare I never can find anything! Anyway, she wants me to come."

"When did you get the letter?"

"On the noon mail, of course."

Esther turned away. She knew very well that there had been no letter
from Detroit on the noon mail. But there seemed no use in saying so.
These little "inaccuracies" were becoming common enough. At first Esther
had exposed and laughed at them as merely humorous mistakes; but that
attitude had long been replaced by a cold disgust which did not scruple
to call things by their right names. She knew very well that Mary Coombe
had developed the habit of lying.

"You see," went on the prevaricator cheerfully, "it would be necessary
to run down to Toronto soon anyway. I haven't a rag fit to wear and
neither has Jane. But Detroit is better. Things are much cheaper across
the line. And easy as anything to smuggle. All you need to do is to wear
them once and swear they're old."

"An oath is nothing? But where is the money coming from?"

Mrs. Coombe shrugged her shoulders. "One can't get along without
clothes! And even if I could, there is another reason for the trip. My
medicine is almost finished. I can't risk being without that."

It was the opportunity for which Esther had waited. She spoke eagerly.

"Why not try getting it filled here? I'm sure they are as careful as
possible at Taylor's."

The hand-bag shut with a particularly emphatic click. Mrs. Coombe rose.

"We have discussed that before," she said coldly. "It is a very
particular prescription and hard to fill. As it means so much to me in
my wretched health to have it exactly right, I am surprised at
you, Esther!"

Esther put the surprise aside.

"You could get it by mail, couldn't you?"

"I shall not try to get it by mail."

"But Taylor's are absolutely reliable. Why not give them a chance? If it
is not satisfactory I shall never say another word. It seems so
senseless going to Detroit for a few drugs which may be had around the
corner. Perhaps it is not as difficult to fill as you think. Let me show
the prescription to Dr. Callandar--" She stopped suddenly for Mrs.
Coombe had grown white, a pasty white, and she broke in upon the girl's
suggestion with a little inarticulate cry of rage, so uncalled for, so
utterly unexpected, that Esther was frightened. For a moment the film