He knitted his brows, trying hard to remember what had happened, and slowly half-forgotten incidents started into life.

“There was a question of some fruit, some forced strawberries that a friend had brought that morning. The lady who was then acting as our housekeeper and as my wife’s nurse, thought I had given Mrs. Garlett the strawberries in question. But that was a mistake. She certainly ate them, so one of the maids must have given them to her. The matter is of some moment, for, as Dr. Maclean will, I think, tell you, it was this fruit which indirectly led to her death. Strawberries generally disagreed with her, but she was very fond of them, and as these were small Alpine strawberries I suppose she thought it would be all right.”

“When did you first become aware of your wife’s serious condition?”

“It must have been about four o’clock in the morning when Mrs. Garlett’s nurse-companion called me. She said my wife was in great pain and had asked if she could have some morphia. So I dressed and went at once for the doctor, who lives about a quarter of a mile from my place.”

“And then?”

“I had some trouble in rousing Dr. Maclean, but I think we were back in my house well under half an hour——”

“Had Mrs. Garlett become worse?”

“My wife could not bear for me to see her in the sort of state in which I understood she was then. So I waited downstairs in my study, and about—well, I don’t think it could have been more than twenty minutes after he had come into the house, Dr. Maclean came down and broke to me the fact that she was dead.”

“Had she died while you were fetching the doctor?”

“I don’t know—I don’t think so. I was terribly upset, and I asked no questions. Though she was an invalid, she 66always seemed, in a way, full of life—a steady, if a low, flame. And she had seemed so well, so happy, that afternoon! But wait a bit. I have forgotten something. My wife had had a disagreeable shock. One of our servants had admitted her sweetheart into the house the night before—as a matter of fact into the drawing room, which has a French window opening into the garden. Mrs. Garlett heard sounds, and thought there were burglars in the house. She actually went downstairs herself, and caught the girl red-handed, as it were. I remember suggesting to Dr. Maclean that the shock—for she was very particular about such things—might have 

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