“Can you?” she asked eagerly.
“I haven't finished yet. What I need most is a book on poisons-a comprehensive chemistry would do, but I haven't been able to find one around here,” and he glanced at the books lining the library walls. “Your father didn't go in for that sort of thing.”
“No. But can't you send to New York for one?”
“I suppose I could—yes. I wonder if they might have one in the local library?”
“I'm sure I don't know,” and Viola leaned over to pick a thread from the carpet. “I don't draw books from there. When it was first opened I took out a card, but when I saw how unclean some of the volumes were I never afterward patronized the place.”
“Then you wouldn't know whether they had a book on poisons, or poison plants or not?”
“I wouldn't in the least,” she answered, as she arose. “As I said, I don't believe I have been in the place more than twice, and that was two years ago.”
“Then I'll have to inquire myself,” said the colonel, and he remained standing while Viola left the room. And for some little time he stood looking at the door as it closed after her. And on Colonel Ashley's face there was a peculiar look.
LeGrand Blossom came to The Haven bearing a bundle of books and papers, and with rather a wry face—for he had no heart for business of this nature. Miss Mary Carwell sat down at the table with him and Viola.
“We want to know just where we stand financially,” said Viola. “What is the condition of my father's affairs, Mr. Blossom?”