used to arrange the flowers."

"Restful?" I began, but stopped of a sudden, for I felt all over my
bruised soul that Baxter was speaking truth. It was a light, spacious,
airy house, full of the sense of well-being and peace--above all things,
of peace. I ventured into the dining-room where the thoughtful M'Leod's
had left a small fire. There was no terror there, present or lurking;
and in the drawing-room, which for good reasons we had never cared
to enter, the sun and the peace and the scent of the flowers worked
together as is fit in an inhabited house. When I returned to the hall,
Baxter was sweetly asleep on a couch, looking most unlike a middle-aged
solicitor who had spent a broken night with an exacting cousin.

There was ample time for me to review it all--to felicitate myself upon
my magnificent acumen (barring some errors about Baxter as a thief
and possibly a murderer), before the door above opened, and Baxter,
evidently a light sleeper, sprang awake.

"I've had a heavenly little nap," he said, rubbing his eyes with the
backs of his hands like a child. "Good Lord! That's not their step!"

But it was. I had never before been privileged to see the Shadow
turned backward on the dial--the years ripped bodily off poor human
shoulders--old sunken eyes filled and alight--harsh lips moistened and
human.

"John," Miss Mary called, "I know now. Aggie didn't do it!" and "She
didn't do it!" echoed Miss Mary.

"I did not think it wrong to say a prayer," Miss Mary continued. "Not
for her soul, but for our peace. Then I was convinced."

"Then we got conviction," the younger sister piped.

"We've misjudged poor Aggie, John. But I feel she knows now. Wherever
she is, she knows that we know she is guiltless."

"Yes, she knows. I felt it too," said Miss Elizabeth.

"I never doubted," said John' Baxter, whose face was beautiful at that
hour. "Not from the first. Never have!"

"You never offered me proof, John. Now, thank God, it will not be the
same any more. I can think henceforward of Aggie without sorrow." She
tripped, absolutely tripped, across the hall. "What ideas these Jews
have of arranging furniture!" She spied me behind a big Cloisonnee vase.
"I've seen the window," she said remotely. "You took a great risk in
advising me to undertake such a journey. However, as it turns out...
I forgive you, and I pray you may never know what mental anguish means!
Bessie! Look at this peculiar piano! Do you suppose, Doctor