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The obstinacy and marvelous composure of the young man were not without their due effect on Major Jen. He drew back, and after a few moments' consideration, he spoke in all seriousness. This discovery at once irritated, amazed and perplexed the major. That the handkerchief of Mrs. Dallas should be bound around the head of Jaggard was strange, but that it should be perfumed with the deadly scent which impregnated the devil-stick was stranger still. Had Mrs. Dallas found the wand of sleep? Had Mrs. Dallas perfumed the handkerchief with its cruel poison? Had Mrs. Dallas drugged or stupefied Jaggard on that fatal night by means of that saturated handkerchief? These were the vital questions which presented themselves to the puzzled major, and which he found himself unable to answer. "On that night?" asked Jen, eagerly..
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"The man who did!" Elinor paused in her hair brushing, and sank down on the stool, absently propping her chin on her brush. "Pooh, I'm not a bit dangerous and you know it, Bruce Haydon," she said with returning gayety. "I'm the family grub, and Judy and Elinor are the splendid butterflies." She paused with a merry gurgle. "I'm going to raise chickens for these two glittering geniuses. Greycroft shall be my field of conquest and the white plume that leads to victory will be an Orpington. Lead on!" Judith, ignoring Patricia's pungent remarks, turned her calm eyes inquiringly to Elinor..
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