“Mr. Mottisfont,” she said. “David said it was poison—poison, Liz.” Her voice fell to a low horrified whisper at the word, and then rose on the old gasp of, “Edward took him the tea.” A numbness came upon Elizabeth. Feeling was paralysed. She was conscious neither of horror, anxiety, nor sorrow. Only her brain remained clear. All her consciousness seemed to have gone to it, and it worked with an inconceivable clearness and rapidity. “Hush, Mary,” she said. “What are you saying? Edward——” Mary pushed her away. “Of course not,” she said. “Liz, if you dared—but you don’t—no one could really—Edward of all people. But there’s all the talk, the scandal—we can’t have it. It must be stopped. And we’re losing time, we’re losing time dreadfully. I must go to David, and stop him before he writes to any one, or sees any one. He must sign the certificate.” Elizabeth stood quite still for a moment. Then she went to the wash-stand, poured out a glass of water, and came back to Mary. “Drink this, Molly,” she said. “Yes, drink it all, and pull yourself together. Now listen to me. You can’t possibly go to David.” “I must go, I must,” said Mary. Her tone hardened. “Will you come with me, Liz, or must I go alone?” Elizabeth took the empty glass and set it down. “Molly, my dear, you must listen. No—I’m thinking of what’s best for every one. You don’t want any talk. If you go to David’s house at this hour—well, you can see for yourself. No—listen, my dear. If I ring David up, and ask him to come here at once—at _once_—to see me, don’t you see how much better that will be?” Mary’s colour came and went. She stood irresolute. “Very well,” she said at last. “If he’ll come. If he won’t, then I’ll go to him, and I don’t care what you say, Elizabeth—and you must be quick—quick.” They went downstairs in silence. Mr. Mottisfont’s study was in darkness, and Elizabeth brought in the lamp from the hall, holding it very steadily. Then she sat down at the great littered desk and rang up the exchange. She gave the number and they waited. After what seemed like a very long time, Elizabeth heard David’s voice. “Hullo!” “It is I—Elizabeth,” said Elizabeth Chantrey. “What is it?” “Can you come here at once? I want to see you at once. Yes, it is very important—important and urgent.” Mary was in an agony of impatience. “What does he say? Will he come? Will he come at once?” But Elizabeth answered David and not her sister. “No, presently won’t do. It must be at once. It’s really urgent, David, or I wouldn’t ask it. Yes, thank you so much. In my room.” She put down the receiver, rang off, and turned to Mary. “He is coming. Had you not better send Edward a message, or he will be coming back here? Ring up, and say that you are staying with me for an hour, and that Markham will walk home with you.”