"Yes; he did, though Janet is no patient Griselda. She can hold her own! I've known her to——"

Doctor Masterson ceased talking as he went on with his investigation.

A dozen questions rose to my lips, but I refrained from uttering them. Miss Pembroke's affairs were none of my business; and, too, the doctor was not definitely addressing me, but seemed rather to be talking to himself.

"Here's a key," he said, holding toward me a small bright key; "just take it for the moment, Mr. Landon, as it is doubtless an important one."

"Where was it?" I asked.

[Pg 24]

[Pg 24]

"On the bed, by Mr. Pembroke's side. It had probably been under his pillow. It looks like the key of a safety box of some sort."

I put the key in my pocket, with a pleased thought that it would give me an opportunity to speak with Miss Pembroke. Meantime I noticed that Doctor Masterson's attitude was becoming more and more that of a greatly perplexed man.

"I don't understand it," he muttered. "A man can't die without a cause. And every known cause shows its own symptom. But I find no symptoms. What can this man have died of?"

"No foul play, I hope," I observed.

"No, no; nothing of that sort! Mr. Pembroke died peacefully in his sleep. But how?"

Suddenly he straightened himself up with an air of resolve.

"Is there a doctor living in this house?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered; "there is one on the first floor. Shall I fetch him?"

"Do," said the old man. "Tell him that Doctor Masterson wishes to call him in consultation on a serious matter." I hastened on my errand, though not so rapidly as not to pause a moment to glance in at Miss Pembroke, who had recovered consciousness, and was lying quietly back on the sofa[Pg 25] pillows, while Laura bathed her forehead with cologne. I well knew the soothing capabilities of Laura's finger-tips; and I also was not surprised to notice that the black girl had ceased her convulsive shuddering, and, though still sitting on the floor, was gazing at Laura as if 

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