g but the cold ashes."

"Fuchsia," said her companion, suddenly raising her head and gazing at
her steadily, "I believe you are thinking of someone."

"Why do you say that?"

"Tell me who it is."

But Fuchsia merely looked down on the ground and maintained an unusual
silence.

"Do you know anyone that the cap fits?" persisted Sophy. Then, with a
quick movement, she put the hat aside and, confronting her companion,
said, "Surely--surely, you don't mean _Aunt Flora_?"

Fuchsia's reply was a slow, deliberate nod.

"Oh, Fuchsia, this is too dreadful--how can you? Tell me--why you have
such a hideous suspicion?"

"All right then, I will," and Fuchsia sat bolt upright. "I'm older
than you are, and have knocked about the world a bit, and I can't help
seeing things that are thrust under my nose and drawing an inference.
I must tell you that my grandfather was a notable lawyer, and who knows
but that a scrap of his mantle may not have descended upon me! Now to
answer your question right away--you will admit that pretty often your
aunt is dressed like a last year's scarecrow; that she is drowsy,
stupefied, and generally inaccessible. At another time she is real
smart and vivacious, and puts other women in the shade. Then suddenly
she disappears, shuts herself up along with Lily ayah, and not a soul
may approach her--no, not even you. Undoubtedly Lily provides the drug
and is handsomely paid. I ask you to look at her jewels and her
diamond nose-ring. Your aunt refuses to see a doctor, for a doctor
would diagnose her case the instant he set eyes on her; she also
refuses to quit Rangoon, and why? Because she would be torn away from
what is killing her inch by inch--and that is cocaine!"

By the time Fuchsia had ended this speech Sophy's face was colourless,
and, as she unconsciously stroked a piece of ribbon between her
fingers, many facts in support of Fuchsia's verdict flocked into her
brain and forced themselves upon her comprehension. She had a
conviction that what her friend had just told her was neither more nor
less than a dreadful truth. An instant of clear vision had come;
scales had fallen from her eyes; she recalled those strange excursions
to Ah Shee's stifling den, the purchase of ivories so soon thrown
aside; undoubtedly this collection of netsukes was a blind--her aunt's
real object was to procure _drugs_!

"I'm afraid this is an awful blow to you, Sophy," resumed Fuchsia, "and
you will think