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As they went back to the flower-decked sitting-room, Judith edged close to whisper in her ear. "What!" cried Jen, interrupting sharply. "Did Dr. Etwald know about it also?" "Dido has nothing to do with my refusal," said the widow, coldly, "and although I take her advice in some things I do not in this. I do not wish Isabella to marry you, and I request you to leave my house--".

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I took possession of it and carried it to a bench in the garden that backs up against the purple sprayed lilacs and is flanked by two rows of tall purple and white iris that stand in line ready for a Virginia reel with a delicate row of the poet's narcissus across the broad path. I love my flowers. I love them swaying on their stems in the wind, and I like to snatch them and crush the life out of them against my breast and face. I have been to bed every night this spring with a bunch of cool violets against my cheek, and I feel that I am going to dance with my tall row of hollyhocks as soon as they are old enough to hold up their heads and take notice. They always remind me of very stately gentlemen, and I have wondered if the little narcissus weren't shaking their ruffles at them. "Did you hear any noise?" "Silence, all of you," cried Jen, authoritatively. "We must act, not talk. Two of you take Jaggard to his room. Tell the groom to ride at once to Deanminster for Dr. Etwald and Inspector Arkel. Sampson," he added, turning to the policeman, who was stolidly staring at the empty bed, "rouse yourself. Take lanterns and search for footmarks. There must have been more than one person to carry off a dead body." "If I thought that--. But," added Jen, breaking off, "how did you know that David was in London?".