"You poor darling!" she exclaimed."Let me put you to bed; Mammy taught me the art of soothing frayed nerves.Come with us, Babs,"holding out her left hand to Barbara.But the latter, with a dexterous twist, slipped away from her touch.
"I must stay and straighten the library," she announced.
Mrs.Brewster's delicate color had deepened."It would be as well to open some of the doors," she agreed coldly."The library looks odd, not to say funereal," she glanced down the spacious room and shivered ever so slightly."Do, Babs, put out some of the lights;they are blinding."
"Oh, I'll turn them all out "- Barbara sought the electric switch.
"But your father -"
"No need to worry about father; he can find his way about in the dark like a cat," responded Barbara with unabated cheerfulness.
"Seems to me, Margaret, you and father are getting mighty chummy these days."The sudden darkness into which Barbara's impatient fingers, pressing against the electric light buttons, plunged the library and its occupants, prevented her seeing the curious glance which Mrs.
Brewster shot at her.Helen, who had listened to their chatter with growing impatience, looked back over her shoulder.
"Hurry, Barbara, and come upstairs.Now, Margaret," and she piloted the widow along the hall toward the staircase without giving her an opportunity to answer Barbara's last remark.Barbara, pausing only long enough to pull back the portieres of the hall door and arrange them as they hung customarily, turned to go upstairs just as Grimes came down the hall from the dining room carrying a large tray with pitchers of ice water and glasses.
"I thought you had gone to your room, Grimes," she remarked, as the butler waited respectfully for her to pass him.
"I've just come in, miss, and found Murray had left the tray in the dining room," explained Grimes hurriedly."I hope, miss, I'll not disturb the ladies by knocking at their doors now with this ice water.""Oh, no, Mrs.Brewster and Miss Helen have only just gone upstairs."Barbara paused in front of the butler and poured out a glass of water.
"I can't wait, Grimes, I am too thirsty.""Certainly, miss, that's all right." Grimes craned his head around and looked up and down the hail, then leaning over he placed the tray on a convenient table and stepped close to Barbara.
"I've been reading the newspapers very carefully, miss," he began, taking care to keep his voice lowered."Especially that part of Mr.
Turnbull's inquest which tells about the post-mortem.""Well, what then?" asked Barbara quickly as the butler paused and again glanced up and down the hall.
"Just this, miss," he spoke almost in a whisper."The doctors do say poor Mr.Turnbull was poisoned by acca - aconitine," stumbling over the word."It's a curious thing, miss, that I brought some of that very drug into this house last Sunday.""You did!" Barbara's fresh young voice rose in astonishment.
"Hush, miss!" The butler raised both hands."Hush!" He glanced cautiously around, then continued."Colonel McIntyre sent me to the druggist with a prescription from Dr.Stone for Mrs.Brewster when she had romantic neuralgia.""Had what?" Barbara looked puzzled, then giggled, but her mirth quickly altered to seriousness at sight of the butler's expression.
"Mrs.Brewster had a touch of rheumatic neuralgia the first of the month; do you refer to that?""Yes, miss." Grimes spoke more rapidly, but kept his voice lowered.
"The druggist told me what the pills were when I exclaimed at their size - regular little pellets, no bigger than that," he demonstrated the size with the tip of his little finger, and would have added more but the gong over the front door rang out with such suddenness that both he and Barbara started violently.
"Just a moment, miss," and he hurried to the front bell, to return after a brief colloquy with a messenger boy, bearing a letter.
"It's for Mrs.Brewster, miss," he explained, as Barbara held out her hand.
"I'll give it to her and this also," Barbara took the envelope and a small ice pitcher and glass."Good night, Grimes.Oh," she stopped midway up the staircase and waited for the butler to overtake her, "Grimes, to whom did you give the aconitine on Sunday?""I didn't give it to nobody, miss." The butler was a trifle short of breath; his years did not permit him to keep pace with the twins.
"I was in a great hurry as the druggist kept me waiting, and I had to serve tea at once.""But what did you do with the aconitine pills?" demanded Barbara.
"I left the box on the hail table, miss -""Great heavens!" Barbara stared at the butler, then without a word she raced up the staircase and disappeared through the open door of Mrs.Brewster's bedroom.
