pick up the other poisoned tacks which were on the floor, before assistance arrived.
"Dear, dear!" said my colleague; "what an unfortunate affair. She has evidently over-worked herself. What shall we do, d'Escombe?"
"Send for a couple of nurses, doctor," I answered, "and I will take this patient off your hands. She looks very ill, I think."
"Yes, I'm afraid she is, and with your poor wife so desperately bad too, I'm sorry for you," he replied.
"We must do the best we can," I said. "But it is unfortunate."
My wife died that night, and Estelle knew nothing of it. I kept her under the influence of nicotin and hyoscin, given hypodermically in carefully graduated doses for several days, and then allowed her to recover movement and semi-consciousness. But I kept her brain clouded and dazed for a long enough period to prevent her thinking clearly of previous happenings.
I then arranged with her widowed mother to get her away to the Continent for a long rest and change, feeling certain that when she did return anything she said would be looked upon as the fancy of a mind affected by illness.
