and
between my two big ones.

"Why don't you tell me?" I urged. "Or--you needn't tell me, I know what
you think. But there isn't any motive that I can see, and why would she
chloroform you?"

"I don't know," Margery shuddered. "Sometimes--I wonder--do you think
she is altogether sane?"

The music ended with the crash of a minor chord. Fred and Edith came
down the stairs, and the next moment we were all together, and the
chance for a quiet conversation was gone. At the door Fred turned and
came back.

"Watch the house," he said. "And by the way, I guess"--he lowered his
voice--"the lady's story was probably straight. I looked around again
this afternoon, and there are fresh scratches on the porch roof under
her window. It looks queer, doesn't it?"

It was a relief to know that, after all, Mrs. Butler was an enemy and a
dangerous person to nobody but herself. She retired to her room almost
as soon as Fred and Edith had gone. I was wondering whether or not to
tell Margery about the experiment that afternoon; debating how to ask
her what letters she had got from the postmaster at Bellwood addressed
to Miss Jane, and what she knew of Bella. At the same time--bear with
me, oh masculine reader, the gentle reader will, for she cares a great
deal more for the love story than for all the crime and mystery put
together--bear with me, I say, if I hold back the account of the
terrible events that came that night, to tell how beautiful Margery
looked as the lamplight fell on her brown hair and pure profile, and how
the impulse came over me to kiss her as she sat there; and how I didn't,
after all--poor gentle reader!--and only stooped over and kissed the
pink palm of her hand.

She didn't mind it; speaking as nearly as possible from an impersonal
standpoint, I doubt if she was even surprised. You see, the ring was
gone and--it had only been an engagement ring anyhow, and everybody
knows how binding they are!

And then an angel with a burning sword came and scourged me out of my
Eden. And the angel was Burton, and the sword was a dripping umbrella.

"I hate to take you out," he said. "The bottom's dropped out of the sky;
but I want you to make a little experiment with me." He caught sight of
Margery through the portieres, and the imp of mischief in him prompted
his next speech. "She said she must see you," he said, very distinctly,
and leered at me.

"Don't be an ass," I said angrily. "I don't know that I care to go out
t