s of mine," Beatrice confessed. "It is
very silly, I know, but it is so."

The Countess removed the glass stopper from the bottle.

"Try it, if you like," she said. "Only you must not take too much of it
at first."

Beatrice placed the bottle to her nostrils. A delicious thrill passed
through her veins. All sense of fatigue had gone; she felt conscious of
only one thing, and that was the desire to lie down and sleep. In a
dreamy way she watched the Countess depart and close the door behind
her; then she crossed over to the bed and lay on it just as she was--her
thoughts seemed to be steeped in sunshine.

When Beatrice awoke at length, it was broad daylight, and Adeline was
leaning over her. The girl's face was white and her lips unsteady.

"I am glad you have come round, Miss," she said. "You wouldn't believe
the trouble I have had to arouse you, and you such a light sleeper as a
rule. Don't you feel well?"

"I never felt better in my life," Beatrice said. "I have slept for hours
and hours. But it is for me to ask if you don't feel well, Adeline. Your
face is so curiously white and your lips tremble. What is it? Has
something happened? But that is quite out of the question. All the
dreadful things came together yesterday. Tell me, what time is it,
Adeline?"

"It's a little past ten, Miss," Adeline said in a low voice that shook a
little. "On and off, I have been trying to wake you since eight o'clock.
And there is a gentleman to see you in the sitting-room as soon as you
have time--two gentlemen, in fact."

Beatrice asked no further questions, though she could see from Adeline's
manner that something out of the common had taken place. But Beatrice
felt curiously strong and steady to-day. It seemed impossible that fate
could have anything worse in store than had already befallen her. With a
firm step she went into the sitting-room where two men rose and bowed
gravely. One she recognized as the inspector of police who had come
after the tragedy yesterday, the other was Dr. Andrews.

"You sent for me, gentlemen?" she said quietly. "It is a matter of the
inquest, of course? Will you have to call me? I am afraid I can give you
no information--my father never had anything the matter with him as far
as I know. If you could spare me the pain----"

Dr. Andrews nodded gravely; he seemed unable to speak for the moment.

"It is not that," he said quietly. "If we spare you one pain we give you
another. Miss Darryll, I s