They started off, Milly calling back to Eve to preside at the tea-table, if she didn't return in time. "All right," agreed Eve, though Vernie vociferously announced her intention of playing hostess in Milly's absence. The shoppers had not returned when old Thorpe brought in the tea-tray. "You can pour, Eve, and I'll pass the cakies," said Vernie, who was in high spirits, for she had partially persuaded her uncle to remain longer at Black Aspens. He was just phrasing certain strong stipulations on which his permission was to be based, when the tea things arrived. They were, as usual, in the hall, for though they sometimes suggested the plan of having tea out of doors, there was no cheerful terrace, or pleasant porch. The hall, though sombre and vast, had become more or less homelike by virtue of usage, so there they took their tea. Mr. Tracy, always graceful in social matters, helped pass the cups and plates, for no one liked to have the old Thorpes about unnecessarily. "No tea for me, please," declared Norma; "I think it upsets my nerves,----" "And that is not the thing to do in _this_ house," laughed Landon. "This is mighty good tea, though,--didn't know anybody could brew it as well as Milly. Congratulations, Eve." "Thank you," and Eve's long lashes swept upward as she gave him a coquettish glance. "Referring to that matter of which we were talking, Hardwick," Gifford Bruce began, "I----" Even as he spoke, the clock chimed four, and, as always, they paused to count the long, slow strokes. Then Bruce began again: "I think, myself----" A strange change passed over his face. His jaw fell, his eyes stared, and then, his teacup fell from his hand, and he slumped down in an awful--a terrifying heap! Landon sprang to his assistance, Norma ran to him, while Tracy, with a quick glance at Vernie, flew to the child's side. "What is it?" he cried to her, "what's the matter, Vernie?" He slipped an arm round her, just as, with a wild look and a ringing shriek, the girl's head fell back and her eyes closed. "Oh," cried Eve, "_what_ has happened?" "I don't know," and Tracy's voice shook. "Help me, Miss Carnforth--let us lay her on this sofa." Between them they carried the girl, for she was past muscular effort, and as they placed her gently on the sofa her eyes fluttered, she gave a gasping sigh, and fell back, inert. "Oh," cried Eve, "she isn't--she _isn't_--_oh_, it's just four o'clock!" Landon ran to Vernie's side and felt of her heart. "She is dead," he said, solemnly, his face white, his voice shaking; "and Gifford Bruce is dead, too. It is four o'clock!" CHAPTER VII The Mystery In the panic-stricken moments that followed the realization of the double tragedy, the natural characteristics of all those present showed themselves. Eve Carnforth, strong and calm, suddenly became self-appointed dictator.