"What have you been doing, doctor?" cried Mrs. Cavendish.
"I must make my apologies," said the doctor. "I did not really
mean to come in, but Mr. Inglethorp insisted."
"Well, Bauerstein, you are in a plight," said John, strolling in
from the hall. "Have some coffee, and tell us what you have been
up to."
"Thank you, I will." He laughed rather ruefully, as he described
how he had discovered a very rare species of fern in an
inaccessible place, and in his efforts to obtain it had lost his
footing, and slipped ignominiously into a neighbouring pond.
"The sun soon dried me off," he added, "but I'm afraid my
appearance is very disreputable."
At this juncture, Mrs. Inglethorp called to Cynthia from the
hall, and the girl ran out.
"Just carry up my despatch-case, will you, dear? I'm going to
bed."
The door into the hall was a wide one. I had risen when Cynthia
did, John was close by me. There were therefore three witnesses
who could swear that Mrs. Inglethorp was carrying her coffee, as
yet untasted, in her hand.
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