"I don't see what she has to gain. But there's no use talking any further. The matter is ended so far as I am concerned." "What will you do now?" "I am going to see Dorothy," said Brendon, "and tell her that there is no chance of our marriage. Nor is there, for I cannot see my way to prove my legitimacy. We must part, and I shall probably go down the country for six months or so, to finish my novel and to get rid of my heartache." Train remained silent, looking at the ground. Then he glanced at his friend in a doubtful way. "What has become of your yellow holly?" Brendon produced it from his pocket. "It withered, so I took it out of my coat and put it into this envelope." "Do you know if Miss Ward gave any one else a piece of yellow holly?" Brendon stared at this strange question. "Not to my knowledge. Why do you ask?" Train shuffled his feet and looked down again. "It is an exceptionally rare sort of thing," he said uneasily, "and its effect on Mrs. Jersey was so strange that I wondered if she connected it with any trouble or disaster." "You made the same remark before," said Brendon, dryly, "and we could arrive at no conclusion. But in any case I don't see that Miss Ward giving me the holly has anything to do with Mrs. Jersey's alarm--if indeed she was alarmed." "I think she was," said Train, decisively, "and if I were you I would ask Miss Ward why she gave you the yellow holly." "What would be the sense in that?" "You might learn why Mrs. Jersey was startled." Brendon laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Your active brain is building up a perfect romance," he declared. "There can be no connection between Dorothy and Mrs. Jersey." "Did she know you were coming to stop here on that night?" "Yes. I told her so when I met her in the Park in the morning. It was then that she asked me to afternoon tea." "And at the afternoon tea she gave you the holly?" "Yes. You seem to think she did it on purpose that Mrs. Jersey----" Train interrupted him quickly. "It is you who are building up a romance now," he said. "I never thought anything of the sort. But I do say that the coincidence is strange." "What coincidence?" "That you should have in your coat a flower--I suppose one can call berried holly a flower--which awakens unpleasant recollections in Mrs. Jersey's breast." "In a word, Train, you fancy that an inquiry into the circumstances of the yellow holly may lead to a detection of the assassin." "I don't go so far as that. But I should not be surprised if something of that sort did eventuate." "Then you do go so far as that," said Brendon with a shrug. "However, there is nothing more to be said. My advice to you is to hold your tongue lest we should both get into trouble." "I am absolutely innocent." "So am I if it comes to that. All the same, the less said the better."