"She dare not, even if she would," thought Kate; and calmly and methodically she proceeded to make the tea, just casually noticing that the screw which held in its place the ornamental knob on the lid of the silver tea-pot had been off and was secured in its place again with what appeared to be resin. It was a trifle which seemed to be of no importance then, as she turned on the hot water from the urn, rinsed out the pot made the tea and sat thinking while she gave it time to draw. Her thoughts were upon the old theme, the way of escape, or to find a way of sending letters to both Jenny and her uncle. She started from her reverie, poured out a cupful, took up her book again, grew immersed in it, and sat back sipping her tea from time to time, till about half the cup was finished, before she noticed that it had a peculiar flavour, but concluded that it was fresh tea, and she had made it a little too strong. The old German book was interesting, and she still read on and sipped her tea till she had finished the cup, and then sat frowning, for the last spoonful or two had the peculiar flavour intensified. It was very strange. The tea was very different. She smelt the dregs in her cup, and the odour was strongly herbaceous. She tasted it again, and it was stronger, while the flavour was now clinging to her palate. She sat thinking for a few moments, laid her book aside, and let a little water from the urn flow into the spare cup, and examined it. Pure and tasteless, just boiled water; there was nothing there; so she drew the pot to her side, opened the lid and smelt it. The odour was plain enough. A dull, vapid, flat scent, which seemed familiar, but she could not give it a name. "What strange tea!" she thought; and then the mystery was out, for she caught sight of the fastening of the lid handle. It was as it usually appeared; but the screw was loose, and it turned and rattled in her fingers. The dark, resinous patch which had held it firmly had gone, melted by the heat and steam, and hence the peculiar flavour of the tea. "How stupid!" she exclaimed; and rising from her seat, she rang the bell. The housekeeper was longer than usual in answering, and Kate was about to ring again, when the woman appeared, looking nervous and scared. "Did you ring, ma'am?" she asked; and her voice sounded weak and husky. "Yes; look at that tea-pot, Mrs Plant; smell the tea." "Is--is anything the matter with it, ma'am?" faltered the woman. "Matter? Yes! How could you be so foolish! I noticed that something had been used to fasten the knob on the lid." "Yes--yes, ma'am; it has worn loose. The screw has got old." "What did you use to fasten it with--resin?" "I--I did not do anything to it, ma'am," faltered the woman, whose face was now ghastly. "Someone did, and it melted down into the tea. It tastes horrible. Take the pot, and wash it out I must make some fresh."