“For you as well,” said Emmeline. “You are entitled to a second glass.”
Even as the words were spoken, with singular boldness and dexterity, and screened by the handkerchief, Mrs. Calverley contrived to let fall two or three poisonous drops from the phial into Mildred's glass.
The action passed completely unnoticed, Mildred's attention being diverted at the moment.
No peculiarity was perceptible in the flavour of the champagne. It seemed excellent, and really believing the exhilarating wine would do her good, Mildred emptied the glass.
In answer to a friendly sign from the chaplain, Mrs. Calverley raised the glass to her lips, but her handkerchief had disappeared.
The enlivening effect of the wine on the party was speedily apparent—except in the instance of Mildred, who began to feel ill, and was obliged to rise from table, and leave the room.
Mrs. Calverley, who seemed greatly concerned, and was very attentive to her, wished her to see Doctor Spencer, but she declined, insisting that it was a mere passing indisposition.
Emmeline was of the same opinion, but Rose Hartley, who bad been summoned to attend her, thought otherwise, and prevailed on her to retire to her own room.
By this time, she had become so faint, that Rose had to assist her to mount the spiral staircase.
To disarm suspicion, Mrs. Calverley remained for an hour, conversing with Lady Barfleur and Mr. Massey, and played her part to perfection—charming them both.