“I—­I—­may I speak?” she faltered.

“Yes.”

“I bought that chloroform a month ago and used it to put a sick canary and a sick parrot out of their misery.  Mary Billings saw me chloroform the parrot.”

“When did you do the chloroforming?”

“About a week ago, on the parrot.  The canary I chloroformed when I obtained the drug.”

“Sure, and that’s roight, sur,” broke in the servant girl.

“Then you know all about using chloroform?” remarked the coroner dryly.

“The druggist told me.”

“Did it take all you had for the birds?”

“No.”

“What did you do with what remained?”

“I threw it away, for I had no further use for it.”

“Hum.”  The coroner turned to Mary Billings.  “Did you see her throw the chloroform away?”

“N—­no,” stammered the servant girl.  “But if she says she did, she did,” she added stoutly.

“Now, Mrs. Morse, did you find anything else of value?”

“I did not, but Mrs. Gaspard, who was in charge downstairs, did.”

“Very well, you may step down.  Mrs. Gaspard!” And the other woman came forward to face the coroner and his jury, and was sworn.

“Mrs. Morse says you found something of importance.  What was it?”

“It was this, Mr. Busby,” and the woman held out a sheet of note paper. 
“I came across it on the stairs leading to Miss Langmore’s room.  Shall
I read it?” And as the coroner nodded, the woman read as follows: 

“Since you refuse to open your room door to me, let me give you fair warning.  You must either obey your mother that now is, and me, or leave this house.  I have had enough of your willfulness and I shall not put up with it any longer.”

As the woman finished reading she handed the paper to the coroner.

“Ahem!  Mrs. Gaspard, do you know who wrote this note?” asked the latter.

“The handwriting is exactly like Mr. Langmore’s.  I have compared the two, and so have Mrs. Morse and Mr. Pickerell, the schoolmaster.”

Again all eyes were bent upon Margaret.  She had again arisen and was swaying from side to side.

“My father—­never—­never sent me—­never wrote such a note—­” she gasped, and then sank back and would have fallen had not Raymond supported her.

“A glass of water, quick!” cried the young man, and it was handed to him, and also a bottle of smelling salts.  In a moment more Margaret revived.

“Take me away,” she moaned.

“I am sorry, but that cannot be allowed,” replied the coroner.  “You will have to remain until this session is over.”

“It’s an outrage!” exclaimed Raymond, his eyes flashing.  “You are all against her, and you are going to prove her guilty if you possibly can.  The whole proceedings is a farce.”

“Silence, young man, or I’ll have you removed by an officer.  You have interrupted the proceedings several times.  I do not know what interest you have—­”