Mrs. Nash's eyes slowly opened and regarded him steadily. "What's the matter with your medicines?" she demanded. "Why am I not better?" "Don't be so impatient." He evaded a direct reply. "Where is Miss Ward?" "Asleep, I presume. She went to her room after giving me my breakfast this morning." Mrs. Nash sat up a little straighter. "Where did you find such a pretty woman?" "She came from the Central Registry; I know no more than that." Roberts looked at her inquiringly. "You find her competent and intelligent?" "As nurses go." Mrs. Nash sniffed. An argument with Miriam that morning, in which she had come off second best, still rankled. "I admit that she is nicer in the sick room than my niece Betty." "Has Betty been with you this morning?" "Yes," grimly. "She was worse than useless. Well," regarding Roberts attentively, "why, do you look at me like that?" "Betty is hardly herself, Mrs. Nash, since the tragedy of yesterday." Mrs. Nash did not give him time to complete his sentence. "So you, too, think Betty is crushed? Well, so she is--on some one else." "My dear Mrs. Nash!" Mrs. Nash smiled tolerantly and swiftly changed the subject. "Who were all those people tramping by my door a short time ago?" she asked. "The coroner's jury," responded Roberts, putting his stethoscope and sphygmomanometer in his bag. "Oh!" Mrs. Nash sat upright; her cheeks a brighter pink. "Is the inquest being held here?" "Not now. It met, was sworn in, and viewed the body," replied Roberts concisely. "And then Coroner Dixon asked for a postponement--" "Why, for goodness' sakes!" demanded Mrs. Nash. "Doesn't the man wish to catch Paul's murderer?" "Of course he does!" Roberts was conscious of a feeling of irritation; Mrs. Nash's interminable questions were getting on his nerves. "Sheriff Trenholm wished more time before presenting the case, and the inquest is held over for a few days." "Does that mean that the burial has to be postponed?" she asked. Roberts shook his head. "The body will be removed to the vault at the cemetery," he answered. "I do not know what arrangements Alan Mason has made, further than that. Now, Mrs. Nash, you must not excite yourself," observing her flushed appearance with concern. "Please lie down." Mrs. Nash subsided among the pillows, of which she had collected four, arranged entirely to her liking after earnest effort on Martha's part to carry out her orders. "Will you do me a favor, Doctor?" she asked as he rose and stood, bag in hand. "Please give this note to Pierre, my chauffeur, and tell him to drive into Washington and give it to my husband. Pierre is to return here immediately with every article listed in the note. If I must stay here, I will at least be comfortable." Roberts took the proffered note. "I will run in and see you to-night before returning to Washington," he volunteered. "Sheriff Trenholm has asked me to dine with him."