"I suppose I used to know something about Tasmania; but then I used to be very good at acrostics, and I can't do them now."

"It's an island near Australia. But not every one who goes to an island in the Pacific intends to be a missionary," said Nellie, adding to herself, "This will be delightful news for George."

That gentleman was depressed, for he had just received an anonymous communication threatening him with a fearful end upon the day that the first boulder of the new railway was blasted. Also Crampy had sent him a perplexing note, mentioning that some experts believed the vases were genuine, while others declared them to be forgeries; but, in any case, he had succeeded already in disposing of them.

When George had read Percy's letter, which Miss Yard pa.s.sed across the breakfast table, with the remark that she herself would like to live "in the Pacific," if he could find her an island where the police insisted upon the wearing of apparel during divine service, he became highly suspicious, and suggested to Nellie in an undertone that Percy had selected the Antipodes with a view to removing himself as far as possible from the Central Criminal Court.

"He's going to grow Tasmanias in Tomato," announced Miss Yard.

"He means to grow giant tomanias--I mean tomatoes, in--oh, bother!"

laughed Nellie. "Miss Sophy has muddled me. Why shouldn't Mr. Taverner grow tomatoes in Tasmania?"

"What about this money? Would anybody leave money to Percy unless they had to?" cried George.

"It may have been left to his young lady," suggested Nellie.

"He has robbed someone," said George bitterly, "and now he's running off the earth to hide the swag."

"If I wanted to say something nasty about Mr. Taverner," said Nellie, "I might suggest he had become engaged to Miss Lee because this money had been left to her."

"I should be certain of it, if he wasn't clearing out of the country,"

replied George.

"Isn't this honey?" complained Miss Yard. "What makes it taste so bitter?"

"Heavens, don't swallow them! Have they stung you?" cried Nellie, perceiving suddenly that the good lady was spreading her b.u.t.tered toast with a mixture of crushed wasps and honey.

"They are not at all nice. Did the doctor order me to have them?"

"They are wasps, Aunt," said George bluntly.

"Are they the things that turn into b.u.t.terflies?" gasped Miss Yard, rising from her chair and showing signs of distress.

"Don't worry, dear. They are quite harmless. Come and lie down, and I'll bring you something to wash out your mouth," said Nellie; and she carried off the old lady. While George, always ready to play emergency-man, rushed into the kitchen, acquainted Kezia with what had happened owing to her gross carelessness in putting away the honey pot with the lid off, and ordered her to despatch a telegram to the doctor.

Then he went into the parlour and observed consolingly:

"People can live a long time with bullets inside them. Wasps can't be worse, especially as they must be digestible."

"I am afraid of the stinging parts," said Nellie.

"Perhaps they are worn off," he replied.

Miss Yard lay upon the sofa breathing peacefully, thankful she had made her will, but looking wonderfully healthy. She complained, however, of drowsiness, whereupon Bessie, who had rushed across the road at the first alarm, and was then standing in the parlour armed with the brandy bottle and blue bag, exclaimed incautiously, "That shows they'm stinging her. Robert ses his father wur bit by a viper, and he drank a bottle of brandy and lay unconscious vor twenty-four hours."

"Was it really a viper?" groaned the sufferer.

"I don't think they will do her any harm," said George. "In some countries the people live on frogs and slugs."

"And St. John the Baptist always had gra.s.shoppers with his honey," added Bessie reverently.

"And Germans eat worms, and thrive on 'em," George concluded.

Kezia was crying in the hall, declaring that the jury would bring it in manslaughter. Being called upon by Bessie to make some valedictory remark to the poor lady, she approached, and blubbered out:

"Mrs. Cann ses, miss, you ain't to worry. She can't hardly open her mouth in the post office without swallowing something; and one evening, miss, taking her supper in the dark, she ate a beetle; and there's more good food about than us knows of, she ses; and it 'twas all cooked, miss, and if it warn't vor the look of such things, we might live a lot more cheaply than we do; vor she ses, miss, 'tis horrible to think what ducks eat, but there's nothing tastier than a duckling, 'cept it be a nice bit of young pork; and she ses, miss, she saw a pig of hers eat a viper--"

"There's nothing here about internal wasp stings," broke in Nellie, who had been consulting a book of household remedies.

"I can't think how it got into the house," Miss Yard was moaning, with her eyes fixed upon vacancy. "It seems wonderful that it should have run down my throat when I wasn't looking."

"Are you in any pain, dear?" asked Nellie.

"No," replied Miss Yard in a disappointed voice.

"They'm always like that," wept Kezia. "My poor missus was wonderful well the morning she wur took."

"I'm going away too," said the invalid. "Will you find me a train, George?"

"Where to?" asked the obliging nephew.

"The place where Nellie and I came from. I don't know what they used to call it."

"We'll go directly you are well," Nellie promised.

George brought a railway timetable, a pair of compa.s.ses, and a map of the British Isles; and delivered a lecture which delighted the old lady so much that she forgot her pangs, and was greatly astonished when the doctor bustled into the room thankful to know he was not too late.

"I suppose you want a subscription," said Miss Yard.

"I had a telegram saying you were seriously ill, but I have never seen you looking better," replied the doctor.

"Yes, I am wonderfully well, thank you. I hope you're the same," said the merry patient.

"Oh, doctor!" cried Nellie, entering the apartment. "Miss Yard was eating her breakfast--"

"And I swallowed a snake! Do you know I had forgotten all about it!"

cried the old lady.

Nellie revised this version, and the doctor was professionally compelled to act the pessimist. He advised a little walk in the garden, to complete digestion of the wasps, recommended a stimulant, prescribed a tonic, and promised to call every day until the patient should be in a fair way to recovery.

Then he departed, and Miss Yard immediately suffered a relapse brought on entirely by the visit. She was stricken with some mortal disease, and they were hiding the truth from her. She consented to walk round the garden, as it would be for the last time; then, having insisted upon being put to bed, she implored Nellie to tell her the worst; and, when the girl declared it was nothing but a little indigestion, the old lady lost her temper, and said it was very unjust she should have to die of a disease that was not serious.

"There's nothing whatever the matter," said Nellie.

"Then what's all this fuss about?" asked Miss Yard.

"You are making the fuss."

"I didn't send for the doctor. And he's coming again tomorrow. It's not measles, and it's not whooping cough, but I believe it's poison. Bessie put poison into the teapot."