Esther’s reply was to call Aunt Amy and while the doctor explained to the bewildered old lady the danger in which her niece stood and the absolute importance of keeping all “medicine” away from her, Esther quietly and swiftly searched the room.  Boxes and drawers she unlocked and opened, the dresser, the writing-table, the bureau, the long unused sewing basket, all were examined without success.  But in the locked box which contained her father’s portrait, she made another discovery which woke a little throb of angry pity in her heart.  There, still wrapped in its carelessly torn off postal wrappings, lay the box containing the ruby ring which Jessica Bremner had returned.  Mary must have got it from the post herself and had immediately hidden it, careless of the fact that all Esther’s careful savings had been necessary to make the return possible.  Without comment she slipped the ring into the bosom of her dress.

“Have you found anything?”

“Nothing yet.”

Aunt Amy took a fascinated step nearer the figure on the bed.  If Callandar could have intercepted the look she cast upon it he might have been warned of the subtle change which had taken place in her of late, but the doctor had turned to help Esther.  Aunt Amy could gaze undisturbed.

“She looks like Richard,” said Aunt Amy suddenly.  “Do you remember Richard?” She brushed her hand over her eyes in a painful effort of memory.  “He was a bad man, a very bad man.”

“She means her brother Richard,” explained Esther.  “He has been dead for ages.  I believe he was not a family ornament.”

“Just like Richard,” murmured Aunt Amy again with a quickly checked chuckle.  “But you ought to be glad of that.  You won’t have to marry her now.  You can marry Esther.”

If a shell had burst in the quiet room, it could scarcely have caused more consternation.  The doctor’s stern face quivered, Esther’s searching hand dropped paralysed.  Here was a danger indeed!  Was their secret really so patent?  Or had it been but a vagrant guess of a clouded mind?

Callandar recovered himself first.  Without glancing at the girl he walked quietly over to the bed and placing his hand upon Aunt Amy’s shoulder compelled wavering eyes to his.

“Aunt Amy, you must never say that again.”  He spoke with the crisp incisiveness of a master, but for once his subject did not immediately respond.  With a sulky look she tried to wrench herself free.

“Why?” she questioned.  But Callandar knew his business too well to argue.  “You must never say it again,” he repeated.  “You—­must—­never—­say—­it—­again!”

The poor, weak lips began to quiver.  Her own boldness had frightened her quite as much as his vehemence.  Her eyes fluttered and fell.

“Very well, Doctor,” she answered meekly.

They searched now in silence and presently Esther emerged from the closet with a pair of dainty slippers in her hand.