I went to my room, still unobserved, washed my face and hands, and looking in the mirror, saw my face reflected, calm and placid, unmarked by the last half-hour.  I descended the stairs, and came in by the porch.

Amy sprang up from the couch as I entered, gaily humming a tune.  It chanced to be the song to which we had listened the night before: 

  “I fain would lay in blessing,”—­

She drew her loose tea-gown about her, and tried to gather up the unfastened masses of golden hair, with a charming blush.

“Lewis!” she exclaimed.  “Where did you come from?  How you frightened me!”

“Well, you see, after all, I was not detained so long, and I thought if I hurried back, we might go to the Waddells’!  I heard nothing of you, so I just ran up to get off the city dust concluding you had gone on without me.  In fact, I was starting over there, when I thought you might be in here, so I came back—­and found you.  But it’s rather late to go, don’t you think?” said I. I had retreated to the window and stood with my back studiously turned, while my betrothed repaired the ravages made in her toilet by her siesta.

“Yes, indeed,” said Kate, “It is too late by far, and so hot!  Let us be lazy until dinner.  Do you want to read to us while we embroider?  I know you do!” and going to the book-case, she brought one of Hamerton’s books which I had been reading aloud to them the day before.

Amy had quietly disappeared, and came down in an incredibly short time in a fresh, simple gown, with her work in her hand.  I read until dinner, or rather until it was time to dress, and then I laid the book aside, and went up-stairs with the rest.  Hilyard and Mrs. Mershon might return at any time.  I stole downstairs, and into the room devoted to Hilyard’s chemical experiments.  Fool!  I had forgotten to bring a cup or bottle with me.  I looked hurriedly around the bare room, and discovering a broken bottle on a shelf, I took the key of the cabinet from its place and unlocked it.

Yes, there in the corner stood the rough glass bottle, with the metal around it.  I removed the stopper, and having no idea of the amount necessary to produce the desired result, poured out several tablespoonfuls, filling up the phial from the faucet at the rough sink in one corner of the room.  I replaced the phial, locked the cabinet, and concealing the broken bottle in my dressing-gown, lest I should meet one of the servants, I retraced my steps to my own room.  I was not wholly credulous of its marvellous properties, although Hilyard was not given to boasting or lying—­except to women—­but I believed it at least to be a poison, and I believed that it defied analysis, as he said.

I took from my drawer a pocket flask of sherry, and emptying all but a wine glass, I added the drug, first tasting and inhaling it, to make sure it had neither perceptible flavor nor odor.  Then I locked the flask in my dressing-case as the dinner-bell rang.