She was in the library. Mr. Hale went in, and I followed him. She
was sitting at the table, with writing materials scattered before
her; but she was not writing. She had a strange preoccupied air; but
at the sight of Mr. Hale she rose suddenly, and looked at him with a
deadly white face.

'Is she worse?' she asked.

'No, Mrs. Darrell; she is better,' he answered sternly. 'I find that
we have been the dupes of some secret enemy of this dear child's.
There has been an attempt at murder going on under our very eyes.
Poison has been mixed with the medicine sent by me--a slow poison.
Happily for us the poisoner has been a little too cautious for the
success of the crime. The doses administered have been small enough
to leave the chance of recovery. An accident awakened Miss Crofton's
suspicions last night, and she very wisely discontinued the
medicine. I have analysed it since she gave it me, and find that a
certain portion of irritant poison has been mixed with it.'

For some moments after he had finished speaking Mrs. Darrell
remained silent, looking at him fixedly with that awful death-like
face.

'Who can have done such a thing?' she asked at last, in a half-
mechanical way.

'You must be a better judge of that question than I,' answered Mr.
Hale. 'Is there any one in this house inimical to your
stepdaughter?'