"We're better, thanks!" she choked. "And Carmel can hobble about quite well on her crutches, and her face isn't _very_ black now, not like it was at first, though of course she still has the fits pretty regularly, and the Doctor says----" But at that moment her mendacious statement was contradicted by Carmel herself, who came running over the lawn with an agility that put crutches out of all question, and a complexion that was certainly in no way spoilt. It was Everard's turn to look amazed. He glanced in much perplexity from his cousin, radiant and apparently in the best of health, to his sister, who was almost speechless with laughter. "You never actually _believed_ my letter about the rat poison?" exploded Dulcie. "I explained that it was written for our literary evening. I told you, Everard, I only sent it on for you to read because it sounded so funny, and I was rather proud of it!" "You told me nothing of the sort!" "Oh, but I did indeed! Unless--" (suddenly sobering down), "unless I forgot to put my other letter into the envelope, and only sent you the rat-poison one! I was in such a hurry! Oh, good-night! Isn't it just like me! Poor old Everard, I never meant to give you such a scare! I'm frightfully sorry! Umpteen apologies!" "Then is the whole business fiction?" demanded her brother, with knitted brows. "Oh, Everard, don't be angry!" implored Carmel. "Dulcie didn't mean to rag you! We were having a jolly evening, and each of us had to write something--the funnier the better--and that was Dulcie's contribution. She said she was going to send it to you to make you laugh, but of course she meant to put in her other letter to explain that this was only nonsense. But Miss Hardy came in such a hurry, and whisked all our letters off before we had time to read them over, or hardly to put them in the right envelopes. So you know it was just an accident." "I rode over at once to see what was the matter!" Everard's voice still sounded offended, though slightly mollified. "I know you did, and it was ever so kind of you. I'm only sorry you should have all the trouble. It's been nice to see you, though, and we do thank you for coming." "It must be a relief to find we don't squint or hobble on crutches," added Dulcie naughtily. "How _shall_ we explain to Miss Walters if she catches you?" "I'd better be going!" declared Everard. "Isn't that your school-bell ringing? Well, I'm glad at any rate to find you all right. Shan't dare to believe any of your letters in future, Dulcie! "'Matilda told such awful lies, It made you gasp and stretch your eyes. Her aunt, who from her earliest youth Had kept a strict regard for truth, Attempted to believe Matilda-- The effort very nearly killed her.'