"Yes," he answered, hurriedly; "Mr. Mansfield came in, and Miss
Hargrave. Oh, they are very particular! And Doctor Murray, he has
given me special orders ever since last year, when monsieur had
the bad stomach," he repeated.

"Was any one else here?"

"Yes--I think so. You see, I am so excited--a big dinner--such
epicures--everything must be just so--I cannot say."

There seemed to be little satisfaction in quizzing the chef, and
Kennedy turned again into the dining-room, making his way back to
the library, where Miss Grey was waiting anxiously for us.

"What do you think?" she asked, eagerly.

"I don't know what to think," replied Kennedy. "No one else has
felt any ill effects from the supper, I suppose?"

"No," she replied; "at least, I'm sure I would have heard by this
time if they had."

"Do you recall anything peculiar about the mushrooms?" shot out
Kennedy.

"We talked about them some time, I remember," she said, slowly.
"Growing mushrooms is one of Miss Hargrave's hobbies out at her
place on Long Island."

"Yes," persisted Kennedy; "but I mean anything peculiar about the