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"There," said Jen, pointing to the inanimate form of his old servant. "He is asleep or dead." "Well, yes; but I can prove nothing against her." "I say, this is fine!" declared David, as he looked about him in the palm-shaded, pink and gold dining-room. "Beats our refectory at the Prep, doesn't it, Tommy old boy?".
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"What did he say?" burst out Patricia, unable to bear the suspense. "Don't beat around the bush so long, for pity's sake, Norn!" "Don't come near me!" she warned in a stifled voice. "Go back as far as the tree. Don't you know it's scarlet fever? I'll go in at once if you come nearer." "I can't say, major. You had better ask her." A curtain interposed between the head of the patient and the light of the window. This Jen drew aside, and lightly removed the outside wrappings of the wound. The housemaid looked on in horror, for she did not dare to prevent her master from meddling, yet she felt sure that he was doing wrong. But Jen was bent on making the discovery as to whom the handkerchief belonged; and in a few minutes he had the outside bandages removed, and saw the handkerchief discolored with dry blood lying over the wound. With deft fingers he lightly touched the four corners. In one of them were the initials "M. D.".
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