Coroner. Perhaps a young lady is not always the best judge upon that point. Now, will you tell me where you got this laudanum? Beatrix. At Great Yafford. Coroner. At which chemist’s? Beatrix. I got it from several chemists. The chemist I first went to would give me only a very small quantity. I went on to another chemist and got a little more. Coroner. That was very ingenious. How many chemists did you go to in this manner? Beatrix. I believe I went to five or six shops. Coroner. Getting a little laudanum at each. How much did you get altogether? Beatrix. When I emptied all the bottles into one there was a small bottle full. Coroner. I should like to see the bottle. Let it be sent for. Beatrix. It is in the little Indian cabinet on the writing-table in my bedroom. The bottle was fetched at the coroner’s desire. It was an ounce bottle, quite empty, labelled in the usual manner. Coroner. Was this bottle never out of your hands after you brought it home? Beatrix. Never. Till last night I kept it locked in my dressing-case. Coroner. You are sure of that? Beatrix. I am quite sure. This ended Beatrix Harefield’s examination. After this the coroner adjourned the inquiry for a week, with a view to obtaining further evidence. He made a strong point of the desirability of obtaining the evidence of the strange visitor who had been closeted with Mr. Harefield for an hour and a half on the night before his death. CHAPTER IV. CHRISTMAS EVE. BEATRIX went back to her room, accompanied by Mrs. Dulcimer and Bella Scratchell. In going through the dimly-lighted hall she passed a group of figures standing close together near the foot of the staircase; the Vicar, Mr. Namby, and one other, a taller figure than either of the two, a man standing with half-averted face, listening to some remark of Mr. Dulcimer’s. Towards this one, whose face was hidden, Beatrix looked intently, but there was no time for more than that one earnest look, for Mrs. Dulcimer’s supporting arm was round her, and Bella was on the other side. Between these sympathisers, she was led up the shallow old stairs to the familiar corridor which had to-night so awful and even unknown an air. Death lay yonder in the bedchamber where the coroner and his jury had gone in silently half an hour ago, to look upon the marble form that had so lately been master and owner of all things at the Water House. In the place of that stern ruler there was now only the lifeless clay. A dreadful blankness and emptiness had descended upon the house, so quiet, so changeless heretofore, but now pervaded with the one idea of death. Beatrix shivered as she passed the door of the room where her dead father was lying. Mrs. Dulcimer perceived that shuddering recoil, and again suggested that her sweet Beatrix should come to the Vicarage. But again Beatrix was firm.