"No, Miss Baird, they were not," broke in Inspector Mitchell, anxious to have the floor. "We found your aunt dead in this library about two hours ago. Dr. McLean examined her body; he can tell you from what she died." Kitty looked in mute question at McLean while her trembling hands plucked aimlessly at her damp handkerchief. The surgeon impulsively put his arm about her shoulder before speaking. "Your aunt died from a dose of poison," he stated slowly. "Poison!" Kitty reeled and but for McLean's strong arm would have fallen. Dumbly, she stared at the three men. "Aunt Susan poisoned! By whom?" "We do not know that--yet," replied Mitchell, and the tone of his voice chilled Kitty. It was some seconds before she could speak. "What poisoned her?" she asked. "The exact nature of the poison will be determined by the autopsy," broke in McLean. "The coroner's examination of the body and mine were superficial, but it did establish the fact that your aunt had swallowed poison." He caught the terror which flashed into Kitty's eyes, and added impulsively, "Miss Baird, in a moment of insanity, may have committed suicide." "There you go again, Doctor." Mitchell laughed shortly. "Now, Miss Baird, where did you spend last night?" "With my cousin, Nina Potter, and her husband, at their apartment in Sixteenth Street," Kitty spoke mechanically. Turning about she walked stiffly over to a chair and sank into it. She wondered if her companions were aware of her trembling knees. "Kitty," Charles Craige's charmingly modulated voice sounded soothingly to her overwrought nerves. "I would have prepared you for this had I known," he hesitated, "these details. But Inspector Mitchell only telephoned to me that your aunt was dead, and it was not until we both came in that I learned, as you have, of the tragedy. I grieve with you, dear child; your aunt was my good friend for many years." Kitty looked up at him gratefully. She was very fond of her handsome godfather. "Thank you," she murmured. "I feel stunned." She pressed her fingers against her temples. "Oh, poor aunty--to die here alone! Why, why didn't I get up early and come here at once without waiting for breakfast? I might have saved her." McLean moved uneasily and exchanged glances with Mitchell. "Don't reproach yourself, Kitty," he begged. "Your presence here this morning would not have saved your aunt," and as she looked at him in astonishment, he added more slowly, "judging from the condition of the body, your aunt died fully twenty hours ago." Charles Craig broke the silence. "Twenty hours ago," he repeated. "That would be yesterday--" "Sunday afternoon, to be exact," stated Inspector Mitchell. "When did you leave here, Miss Baird?" "Yesterday afternoon, about three o'clock; no, nearly four," Kitty corrected herself with a haste not lost upon the inspector. "And when did you last see your aunt alive?" he questioned.