the story flashed like lightning from one end of london to the other. leona lalage had been an important personage. her face was familiar to the society paper window; no report of a great function was complete without a description of her dress. she was a constant source of "copy" to the paragraphists; her dinners and her parties were things to imitate and envy. and now the crash had come.

it was the sensation of the hour. every penny paper had a portrait of sorts of leona lalage. the wildest rumours were afloat. as far as anybody knew for the present, the countess was not at home, and the servants could give no clue as to her whereabouts.

tomorrow a whole hoard of tradesmen would be down upon lytton avenue, but for the present hetty was left in peace. mamie was very far from well, flushed and feverish, so that at eleven o'clock she decided to call in bruce. she rang the bell, but no servant appeared. she rang again, and went down presently into the basement to investigate.

there was no sign of a servant to be seen anywhere. they had all packed up their boxes, and fled, as rats quit a sinking ship.

hetty was alone in the house. at any rate there was the telephone. dr. bruce was out, they told her, but expected in shortly, when he should have the message. it was not nice to be alone in so large a house with a sick child, but hetty had no fear. all the horrors and all the tragedies had gone with the countess. it was quite late when bruce arrived. he asked no questions, as hetty let him in herself. and hetty said nothing of the fact that she had been deserted. it would only make gordon uneasy, and she was certain that she could manage alone.

"of course you can, darling," bruce said fondly. "if ever there was a born nurse you are one. i don't like the look of the child at all. she ought to be got away from here to the seaside. fresh air and salt water is what she wants."

the child lay between waking and sleeping. her cry was for water.

"not too much water," said bruce. "a little now, and some fresh cold water later on. i shall give her a few of those drops i prescribed for her last week. four now, and four in an hour's time. but be very careful as to the dose."

hetty produced the little phial marked "poison," and examined the label. she had administered the medicine before, usually she kept it locked up. as she poured out the drops she had a curious sensation that she was being watched. her hand shook so that she had to try again before she was satisfied.

"are you nervous tonight?" bruce asked.

"not more than usual," said hetty. "once i get away from this house i shall be all right, and that looks as if it won't be long."

bruce lingered as if loth to depart. the house seemed wonderfully silent. bruce went down the stairs presently, accompanied by hetty.

"good night, my darling," he said, as he kissed her fondly. "you'll be compelled to leave here tomorrow, and i only hope the child will be better. thank goodness, gilbert lawrence will be only too glad to have you."

hetty fastened the door carefully. now that she was alone she was feeling more horribly nervous than ever. she locked most of the downstairs doors, and it was only sheer self-contempt that prevented her from fastening her bedroom door. it required a deal of courage to sleep in a large, empty house.

mamie had half-dropped asleep, but she opened her eyes again as hetty entered.

"you have been so long," she said, pitifully, "so very long. and why didn't you come when i heard you standing by the door."

"i wasn't standing by the door," hetty said, quietly.

"but indeed you were. i called out and you said 'hush' very quietly. then i heard the rustle of your dress as you went down the stairs."

hetty murmured something to the effect that she had forgotten. there was no reason to contradict and argue over a child's fancies. mamie murmured again.

"take the drops first," hetty suggested.

mamie declined fretfully. "she wanted water, and that on the table was quite warm." with a patient smile hetty went downstairs to get more. mamie drank thirstily. hetty picked up the little bottle to pour out the drops.

by sheer habit she looked at the label. it was the same, and not the same. hetty stifled a cry of surprise. she had made no mistake before--of that she was certain. then what could possibly have happened? somebody had crept into the room in her absence and changed the bottles!

there could be no doubt about that. the label had the same chemist's name on it, with the red caution of "poison" underneath. the girl put the bottle to her nostrils and noticed the difference in the smell.

the discovery turned her sick and faint. that any one should deliberately try and take an innocent life like this filled her with loathing.

mamie had dropped into what looked like a sound sleep. hetty lay on the bed with the light out. she had the switch to her hand, she could lie there with the chance that the fiend who had done this thing would come back. more than one person in the house had known that that medicine was an experiment. if mamie died it would do bruce incalculable harm. and she herself might suffer. a thousand horrors rose out of the darkness and mocked at hetty.

she lay there waiting patiently. soon it seemed to her that somebody was in the room. she could hear breathing that was not her own, and the creep, creep of drapery. there was a faint rattle on the stand where the medicine stood, so faint that it would not have been heard by any but strained ears.

hetty could stand it no longer. her fingers went out to the electric switch, there was a sudden snap, and the room was bathed in light. there was a startling cry from a woman who stood just under the light with a bottle in her hand--the real bottle, as hetty could see quite plainly.

"now i have got you, murderess!" hetty cried.

the woman reached up a long white hand, and taking the bulb of the swinging electric light in her grasp desperately, crushed it to pieces. then there was swift darkness again and the rush of flying feet.