the doctor explained to
the bewildered old lady the danger in which her niece stood and the
absolute importance of keeping all "medicine" away from her, Esther
quietly and swiftly searched the room. Boxes and drawers she unlocked
and opened, the dresser, the writing-table, the bureau, the long unused
sewing basket, all were examined without success. But in the locked box
which contained her father's portrait, she made another discovery which
woke a little throb of angry pity in her heart. There, still wrapped in
its carelessly torn off postal wrappings, lay the box containing the
ruby ring which Jessica Bremner had returned. Mary must have got it from
the post herself and had immediately hidden it, careless of the fact
that all Esther's careful savings had been necessary to make the return
possible. Without comment she slipped the ring into the bosom of
her dress.

"Have you found anything?"

"Nothing yet."

Aunt Amy took a fascinated step nearer the figure on the bed. If
Callandar could have intercepted the look she cast upon it he might have
been warned of the subtle change which had taken place in her of late,
but the doctor had turned to help Esther. Aunt Amy could gaze
undisturbed.

"She looks like Richard," said Aunt Amy suddenly. "Do you remember
Richard?" She brushed her hand over her eyes in a painful effort of
memory. "He was a bad man, a very bad man."

"She means her brother Richard," explained Esther. "He has been dead for
ages. I believe he was not a family ornament."

"Just like Richard," murmured Aunt Amy again with a quickly checked
chuckle. "But you ought to be glad of that. You won't have to marry her
now. You can marry Esther."

If a shell had burst in the quiet room, it could scarcely have caused
more consternation. The doctor's stern face quivered, Esther's searching
hand dropped paralysed. Here was a danger indeed! Was their secret
really so patent? Or had it been but a vagrant guess of a clouded mind?

Callandar recovered himself first. Without glancing at the girl he
walked quietly over to the bed and placing his hand upon Aunt Amy's
shoulder compelled wavering eyes to his.

"Aunt Amy, you must never say that again." He spoke with the crisp
incisiveness of a master, but for once his subject did not immediately
respond. With a sulky look she tried to wrench herself free.

"Why?" she questioned. But Callandar knew his business too
well to argue. "You must never say it again," he repea