"With your handwriting on both the outside and inside of the package, your intimate relations with the family, the complications of this surgical case, the fact that you were practically in Boston at the time the package was mailed, and the total lack of suspicion of any one else," said Frank, checking the indictments off on his fingers, "they have a fairly convincing case against you, old man, and if you know anything that can break these theories down now is the time to divulge it." "Naturally, if there were anything of the kind you imply, it would be easier for me to discuss it with you than with my leading counsel," his brother replied, "but equally, of course, in such a case, I should not have employed a woman to defend me; certainly not such a rabid feminist as Miss Holland. I have told her all I know, all I can conjecture, but candidly, Frank, I fear she is greatly worried over the outcome. I know the difficulty in overcoming gossip and prejudice and jealousy, and if that cannot be done I fear I must pay the penalty of being the target of their shafts. Crushing as that is, there is one haunting thought that is even more intolerable," he concluded. "And that is?" "That the last thought of that unhappy woman was that I sent the candied fruit. She may have realized in that brief second of time that it caused her death. I hope to prove my innocence to the world, but she has passed beyond the reach of proof." "She has also passed beyond the need of it," answered his brother quickly. "Why don't you comfort yourself with the thought that, no matter who else may be deceived, wherever she is, she knows the truth?" There had been something akin to despair in his voice, and Frank noticed how trouble had deepened the lines in his face. "Brace up, old fellow," he said huskily. "We'll get a line on something before we go to trial." Dr. Earl did not see Leonora or hear from her directly again after their interview, but the Sunday following the announcement that Miss Holland had been employed to defend him, an item appeared in the society columns of the New York papers stating that their engagement had been terminated. He sighed when he read it, whether from sorrow or relief he could scarcely have told himself. But he fully realized at this time that the vital heart-beats of genuine love are not always inspired by plighted troth, neither is the latter always a product of the former, and he marveled at his own lack of understanding in so readily accepting a superficial substitute for the real article. The Ramseys gave every evidence of their devotion, seeing him daily, and there were not wanting a few staunch friends, and numerous former patients showed their loyalty, but as the day of his trial approached he found himself thinking more and more of the four devoted souls who had done and would do all for him that was humanly possible. CHAPTER XIX A GREAT MURDER TRIAL BEGINS