who headed the table. She could not but think that there was some
complicity between her and Ralph Coleman with respect to herself. She
could not tell why this should be, but could not divest herself of the
idea, nevertheless.

"My master is not in his own room, and has not slept in his bed,"
hurriedly exclaimed Reynolds, re-entering the breakfast room. Edith
started up, visibly agitated, but not so with the widow, she coolly
said, "you had better look in at the library, he was writing there late
last night and may probably have thrown himself on the lounge, and
fallen asleep there."

"I will go with you," Edith said to the old servant, as she proceeded a
little in advance of him.

Mrs. Fraudhurst sat staring blankly out of the window waiting for the
result, which she knew must ensue. A loud shriek from Edith rang through
the house, and breathless with excitement, Reynolds entered and
announced Sir Jasper's death and that Miss Effingham had fainted.

The time for action had now arrived. "He may be only in a fit," said
Mrs. Fraudhurst. "I will myself drive over for Dr. Martin. Call Miss
Effingham's maid and let her be carried to her own room and properly
attended to. I will return with all speed; in the meantime, Reynolds, be
sure that no one enters the room. You had better lock the door and take
possession of the key as soon as Miss Edith has been removed." After
quickly dressing, she proceeded towards the stables to hurry forward the
harnessing of the pony phaeton, which was at all times at her disposal,
and drove rapidly to the house of Dr. Martin, though she well knew his
services would be of no avail, but it was a part of the plan she had