ghtness of the electric light.

Then he drank. Then he dropped the glass, which broke.

"Ugh! What's that?" he demanded, with the distorted features of a
gargoyle.

His mother, who was seated next to him, seized the bottle. Denry's hand,
in clasping the bottle, had hidden a small label, which said:

"_POISON--Nettleship's Patent Enamel-Cleaning Fluid. One wipe does it_."

Confusion! Only Nellie Cotterill seemed to be incapable of realising
that a grave accident had occurred. She had laughed throughout the
supper, and she still laughed, hysterically, though she had drunk
scarcely any wine. Her mother silenced her.

Denry was the first to recover.

"It'll be all right," said he, leaning back in his chair. "They always
put a bit of poison in those things. It can't hurt me, really. I never
noticed the label."

Mrs Machin smelt at the bottle. She could detect no odour, but the fact
that she could detect no odour appeared only to increase her alarm.

"You must have an emetic instantly," she said.

"Oh no!" said Denry. "I shall be all right." And he did seem to be
suddenly restored.

"You must have an emetic instantly," she repeated.

"What can I have?" he grumbled. "You can't expect to find emetics here."

"Oh yes, I can," said she. "I saw a mustard tin in a cupboard in the
kitchen. Come along now, and don't be silly."

Nellie's hysteric mirth surged up again.

Denry objected to accompanying his mother into the kitchen. But he was
forced to submit. She shut the door on both of them. It is probable that
during the seven minutes which they spent mysteriously together in the
kitchen, the practicability of the kitchen apparatus for carrying off
waste products was duly tested. Denry came forth, very pale and very
cross, on his mother's arm.

"There's no danger now," said his mother, easily.

Naturally the party was at an end. The Cotterills sympathised, and
prepared to depart, and inquired whether Denry could walk home.

Denry replied, from a sofa, in a weak, expiring voice, that he was
perfectly incapable of walking home, that his sensations were in the
highest degree disconcerting, that he should sleep in that house, as the
bedrooms were ready for occupation, and that he should expect his mother
to remain also.

And Mrs Machin had to concur. Mrs Machin sped the Cotterills from the
door as though it had been her own door. She was exceedingly angry and
agitated. But she could not impart her feelings to the s