his assistant.

Janet Cranston was a young and also remarkably beautiful girl. One
could see traces of sorrow in her face, which was exceedingly,
though not unpleasingly, pale. The restless brilliancy of her eyes
spoke of some physical, if not psychical, disorder. She was
dressed in deep mourning, which heightened her pallor and excited
a feeling of mingled respect and interest. Thick brown coils of
chestnut hair were arranged in such a manner as to give an
extremely youthful appearance to her delicate face. Her emotions
were expressed by the constant motion of her slender fingers.

Miss Giles was a striking woman of an entirely different type. She
seemed to be exuberant with health, as though nursing had taught
her not merely how to take care of others, but had given her the
secret of caring, first of all, for herself.

I could see, as Doctor Burr introduced us to his patient, that
Mrs. Cranston instantly recognized Kennedy's interest in her case.
She received us with a graceful courtesy, but she betrayed no
undue interest that might excite suspicion, nor was there any hint
given of the note of appeal. I wondered whether that might not be
an instance of the cunning for which I had heard that the insane
are noted. She showed no sign of insanity, however.

I looked about curiously to see if there were evidences of the
treatment which she was receiving. On a table stood a bottle and a
glass, as well as a teaspoon, and I recalled the doctor's remark
about the tonic.