bereavements, such as yours, sir, it's not the proper thing for you to
be making exhibitions of yourself. Like as not the reporters have been
taking pictures. And at any time they may find out that my poor dear
sister is ill and wandering. I don't know _what_ to say! The papers will
be full of it. And you!" she exclaimed, having for the first time become
aware of the detective's presence. "Who are you. How did you get in? I
hope and pray you're not a reporter!--Dorothy, don't tell me you've
brought a reporter in here--or I shall leave this house at once!"

"No, Aunt, no!" cried Dorothy. "This--this gentleman, has brought my
mother home. She's in her room now--she's--"

Mrs. Mellows turned and made a rush down the corridor. Four pairs of
hands stayed her in her flight.

"No--no!" begged Dorothy. "This gentleman says she is very ill. We
mustn't disturb her--Aunt--please--the doctor is coming."

As if the name had conjured him, a ring announced Doctor Balys' arrival.
He entered hastily, his emergency bag in his hand.

"Mr. Brencherly, come with me, please," he ordered. "You can tell me the
details as I work. Miss Marteen and Mrs. Mellows, wait for me, and I'll
come and tell you the facts just as soon as I know them myself." He
nodded unceremoniously and followed Brencherly.

As they neared Mrs. Marteen's room the silence was suddenly broken by a
cry. Balys strode past his guide and threw open the door.

Mrs. Marteen, sitting erect in the bed, held out rigid arms as if in