sees you, tell me what
you've done."

His lips were dry, and he could not moisten. them with his tongue.

Miss Mary applied herself to the mouth of the kettle, and between
indraws of steam said: "The spasm came on just now, while I was asleep.
I was nearly choking to death. So I went to the window I've done it
often before, without, waking any one. Bessie's such an old maid about
draughts. I tell you I was choking to death. I couldn't manage the
catch, and I nearly fell out. That window opens too low. I cut my hand
trying to save myself. Who has tied it up in this filthy handkerchief?
I wish you had had my throat, Bessie. I never was nearer dying!" She
scowled on us all impartially, while her sister sobbed.

From the bottom of the bed we heard a quivering voice: "Is she dead?
Have they took her away? Oh, I never could bear the sight o' blood!"

"Arthurs," said Miss Mary, "you are an hireling. Go away!"

It is my belief that Arthurs crawled out on all fours, but I was busy
picking up broken glass from the carpet.

Then Baxter, seated by the side of the bed, began to cross-examine in
a voice I scarcely recognised. No one could for an instant have doubted
the genuine rage of Miss Mary against her sister, her cousin, or her
maid; and that a doctor should have been called in for she did me the
honour of calling me doctor--was the last drop. She was choking with her
throat; had rushed to the window for air; had near pitched out, and in
catching at the window bars had cut her hand. Over and over she made
this clear to the intent Baxter. Then she turned on her sister and
tongue-lashed her savagely.

"You mustn't blame me," Miss Bessie faltered at last. "You know what we
think of night and day.".

"I'm coming to that," said Baxter. "Listen to me. What you did,
Mary, misled four people into thinking you--you meant to do away with
yourself."

"Isn't one suicide in the family enough? Oh God, help and pity us! You
couldn't have believed that!" she cried.

"The evidence was complete. Now, don't you think," Baxter's finger
wagged under her nose--"can't you think that poor Aggie did the same
thing at Holmescroft when she fell out of the window?"

"She had the same throat," said Miss Elizabeth. "Exactly the same
symptoms. Don't you remember, Mary?"

"Which was her bedroom?" I asked of Baxter in an undertone.

"Over the south verandah, looking on to the tennis lawn."

"I nearly fell out of that very window when I was at