“Why was it placed there?” said Leo, catching her sister’s wrist.
“Placed there?”
“Yes. Was it Hartley’s doing?”
“Hartley’s doing?”
“Yes; the glass standing on my table as if it held water. Did Hartley do it, Mary?”
“Is your mind wandering, dear?” said Mary, laying her cool hand upon her sister’s white forehead.
“No; I’m as calm as you are. Hartley must have placed it ready for me—to get rid of his wicked sister, I suppose.”
“Leo! Don’t speak like that. How can you, dear? Hartley place a glass for you!”
“Yes. I thought it was water, and I drank it.”
“Hush, Leo, dear!”