n the walls, but that afternoon,
with one eye on the clock and the other on her embroidery, she sat
waiting in growing impatience for the interruption she anticipated.

The hands of the clock had passed the hour of five before the buzz of a
distant bell brought her to her feet. Hurrying to the window she peeped
between the curtains in time to see a stylish roadster electric glide
down the driveway leading from the McIntyre residence and stop at the
curb. As she turned to go back to her chair Dr. Stone was ushered into
the library by the footman. Mrs. Brewster welcomed her cousin with frank
relief.

"I have waited so impatiently for you," she confessed, making room for
him to sit on the sofa by her side.

"I was detained, Margaret." Stone's voice was not over-cordial; three
imperative telephone calls from her, coming at a moment when he had been
engaged with a serious case in his office, had provoked him. "Do you
wish to see me professionally?"

"Indeed, I don't." She laughed frankly. "I am the picture of health."

Stone, observing her fine coloring and clear eyes, silently agreed with
her. The widow made a charming picture in her modish tea-gown, and the
physician, watching her with an appraising eye, acknowledged the beauty
which had captivated all Washington. Mrs. Brewster had carried her
honors tactfully, a fact which had gained her popularity even among
the dowagers and match-making mothers who take an active part in
Washington's social season.

"Then, Margaret, what do you wish to see me about?" Stone asked, after
waiting without result for her to continue speaking.

She laughed softly. "You are the most practical of men," she said. "It
would not have been so difficult to find a companion anxious to spend
the whole afternoon with me for my sake alone."

"Colonel McIntyre, for instance?" he teased, and laughed amusedly at her
heightened color. "Have a care, Margaret; McIntyre's flirtations are all
very well, but he is the type of man to be deadly in earnest when once
he falls in love."

"Thanks for your warning," Mrs. Brewster smiled, then grew serious. "I
sent for you to ask about Jimmie Turnbull's death this morning. Barbara
told me you accompanied them to the police court."

"Yes. Why weren't you with the girls?"

"Because I was told nothing of their trip to the police court until
they had returned," she replied. "How horribly tragic the whole affair
is!" And a shiver she could not suppress crept dow