se,
not yet overcome, of finding herself, after an isolated, if not
despised, childhood, the idol of society and the recipient of general
homage. The fault was not with her. But she had for guardian (alas! my
dear girl had the same) an aunt who was a gorgon. This aunt must have
been making herself disagreeable to the prospective bridegroom, and he,
being quick to take offence--quicker than myself, it was said--had
probably retorted in a way to make things unpleasant. As he was a guest
in the house, he and all the other members of the bridal party--Mrs.
Armstrong having insisted upon opening her magnificent Newport villa for
this wedding and its attendant festivities--the matter might well look
black to him. Yet I did not feel disposed to take much interest in it,
even though his case might be mine some day, with all its accompanying
drawbacks.

But once confronted with Sinclair in the well-lighted room above, I
perceived that I had better drop all selfish regrets and give my full
attention to what he had to say. For his eye, which had flashed with an
unusual light at dinner, was clouded now; and his manner, when he strove
to speak, betrayed a nervousness I had considered foreign to his nature
ever since the day I had seen him rein in his horse so calmly on the
extreme edge of a precipice, where a fall would have meant certain
death, not only to himself, but also to the two riders who unwittingly
were pressing closely behind him.

"Walter," he faltered, "something has happened--something dreadful,
something unprecedented! You may think me a fool--God knows, I would be
glad to be proved so!--but this thing has frightened me. I"--he paused
and pulled himself together--"I will tell you about it, then you can
judge for yourself. I am in no condition----"

"Don't beat about the bush! Speak up! What's the matter?"

He gave me an odd look full of gloom--a look I felt the force of, though
I could not interpret it; then, coming closer, though there was no one
within hearing--possibly no one any nearer than the drawing-room
below--he whispered in my ear:

"I have lost a little vial of the deadliest drug ever compounded--a
Venetian curiosity, which I was foolish enough to take out and show the
ladies, because the little box which holds it is such an exquisite
example of jeweller's work. There's death in its taste, almost in its
smell; and it's out of my hands, and----"

"Well, I'll tell you how to fix that up," I put in with