“Depends on how long it takes you to turn your head,” remarked a voice back of the three men, and with one accord they spun around. Robert Hale was occupying his favorite chair and he met their stares with one of mild surprise.

“How long have you been in the room?” demanded John Hale.

His brother looked at the clock on the mantel. “A bare thirty seconds,” he answered. “You were so absorbed in conversation that I hesitated to interrupt you. When this gentleman”—with a motion of his hand toward Ferguson—“asked in such impassioned tones for a sight of me, I could not refrain from announcing my presence.”

“But”—John Hale bent forward and stared earnestly at his brother—“Dr. McLane said that you were to remain in bed, that you were too weak——”

Hale interrupted him with a snap of his fingers. “That for McLane’s diagnosis,” he said. “I am a bit weak, but staying in bed won’t cure that complaint, so I dressed myself and came downstairs. Where is Agatha?”

“She’s out,” tersely.

“So Anna informed me when I met her in the hall.” Hale swung his chair around to the left so as to face them more directly. “Anna also said that Judith was out and that Polly Davis was not in the house? Why is every one out? Why”—with a quick impatient gesture—“is there such a funereal air about the house?”

John Hale groaned inwardly and wasted a bitter ejaculation on his sister-in-law. Why had Agatha postponed telling her husband of Austin’s death? What if McLane had advised keeping the tragic news from him—if he was strong enough to dress himself unassisted and walk about the house, he had been strong enough to be told of the events of the past forty-eight hours. But it had now fallen to his lot to do so—it was generally his lot to be the harbinger of bad news in the family. John Hale’s mouth set in grim lines.

“There has been a funeral in the house,” he announced with characteristic bluntness. “Austin died Tuesday night.”

“Austin!” Hale sat bolt upright and regarded his brother; suddenly he sank back in his chair and his head sagged forward on his chest.