"Never; I was in early; my mother and Jack Reid were the only persons I spoke to during the whole evening." Jack Reid was recalled, and confirmed this statement. His master came down to the stables about half-past eight, he said, "and stayed a good bit;" and then he saw him walk toward the house. Then came the medical evidence. The wound in the throat might have been self-inflicted, or it might not, the doctor deposed. That the fatal shot had been fired quite close to the dead woman there was abundant evidence to prove, but whether inflicted by her own hand it was impossible positively to say. She had been shot on the ridge above Fern Dene, and had either staggered back and fallen over the declivity to the Dene below, or been thrown down. The evidence altogether was of so unsatisfactory a nature, that the inquest was adjourned to enable the police to endeavor to obtain some more positive information. James Wray swore that the revolver found near his daughter's body was his property, and this was a fact that naturally pointed to suicide. No one else could have obtained this weapon, as Wray deposed he had seen it in its usual place on the morning of Elsie's death. In her despair at her false lover not keeping his appointment she had probably shot herself, many were inclined to believe, while others did not give credence to Henderson's statement that he had not been to Fern Dene on the night of her death. At all events neither the coroner nor the jury were satisfied, and the adjourned inquest was appointed to take place in a week. Henderson heard this in sullen silence, and then, after beckoning to Reid, he left the house, without attempting to exchange a word with any of those present. Once he looked at May Churchill as he passed her, but the girl's eyes fell as they met his. She did not believe that he had shot poor Elsie, but she believed that he had broken her heart, and a strong feeling of womanly indignation filled May's breast. In silence still, Henderson mounted his dog-cart, and in silence also his groom commenced to drive him homeward. They had gone quite a quarter of a mile before either of the men spoke. Then Henderson said uneasily: "How do you think it went off, Jack?" "Fairly well," replied Jack, laconically. After this there was very little said between them until they reached the Grange. But as Henderson was descending from the dog-cart, Jack Reid suddenly addressed him: "After ye've had a drink, sir," he said, "will ye come down to the stables?" "Why?" answered Henderson, testily. "I've got a beastly headache, and I don't want to talk of this hateful affair any more to-day." "But I do," answered Jack Reid, doggedly. "It's a nuisance--" began Henderson. "I must see ye, sir," interrupted the groom, determinedly, and Henderson, after glancing at him, seeing the expression of his face, nodded and went into the house.