"I am stronger than I appear." Kitty passed her hand across her eyes. "I could see no object in waiting. Coroner Penfield suggested that we have simple funeral ceremonies immediately after the inquest. I tried to get word to you, but failed. It was but prolonging the agony to wait--" with a catch in her throat, "there was nothing to be gained by waiting. It would not bring her back. Oh, poor Aunt Susan!" And bowing her head Kitty gave vent to the tears she had held back for many, many hours. Rodgers watched her in unhappy silence. Could he find nothing to say--do nothing to comfort her? He half rose impulsively to his feet--caught Craige's eye and sat down again. Craige leaned forward and put his arms about the weeping girl and soothed her with loving words. When she grew more composed, he rose and paced up and down the library. "Had I not better call Mandy and let her put you to bed, Kitty?" he asked, stopping by her chair. "You can see us to-morrow when you are more composed." "No, wait." Kitty sat up and attempted to smile. "I am all right, now. Is it true, as the papers said, that Aunt Susan died from poison placed on a peach she was eating?" "If we are to believe the medical evidence, yes. Chemical tests proved that prussic acid still remained on one side of the blade of the fruit knife used to cut the peach." Kitty shuddered. "Who could have planned so diabolical a murder?" she demanded. "That is for us to find out." Kitty looked up quickly at sound of Rodgers' clear voice. "Tell me, Miss Baird, have you no idea where the peaches came from?" "Not the slightest," she shook her head. "I am positive there were no peaches in the house when I left here Sunday afternoon. They are very expensive at this season of the year and," with downright frankness, "we could not afford to buy them, although Aunt Susan was inordinately fond of them." "Some one must have sent the peaches who was aware of your aunt's liking for the fruit," Craige remarked thoughtfully. "Had she spoken of peaches to any of your friends lately?" "Friends!" Kitty looked at him with dawning horror. "You don't think--you don't mean that a _friend_ killed Aunt Susan?" She thrust out her hands as if warding off some frightful nightmare. "No, no. It was a housebreaker--a common, ordinary housebreaker." "It may have been a housebreaker," agreed Rodgers, soothingly. "But it was one with the knowledge that the flavor of a peach would disguise the taste of prussic acid." "Kitty," Craige spoke with deep seriousness. "You must realize that this murder of your aunt was a deliberately planned crime. Burglars don't go around carrying bottles of prussic acid in their pockets. Also, there is one point of especial significance--but one side of the knife-blade had poison on it." "You mean--?" She questioned him with frightened eyes.