No one spoke, and the stern voice went on. I remember, Miss Stuart, that you began to say something bearing on this while we were in that room, and you suddenly stopped, appearing confused. I ask you why?
Pauline hesitated, bit her lip, looked at Gray and then at Anita, and finally said, I may as well tell. It is nothing. When I went to my aunts room, and found what I did find, I was so excited and nervous I scarce knew what I did. But I remember seeing a footprint in that powder, and in obedience to an impulsive instinct I I obliterated it.
With what?
With my handkerchief. I merely slapped at it, and the light powder flew about it.
Why did you do this?
I dont know. I had no real reason. I was not thinking of what I was doing.
Then you did not have a desire to shield some one from possible suspicion? The words were shot at her so swiftly that Pauline gasped.
Suspicion! What do you mean? Was it not the work of a burglar?
Was the impression of a foot that you saw, the foot of a man or a woman?
How can I tell? It was large, but as it was a bare or stockinged foot I could not judge. Might not the burglar have removed his boots, before entering the room?
He might, indeed, and that is just what he did do. For more prints of that stockinged foot have been discovered on the stairs, and there is no doubt that the tracks are those of the assailant of Miss Carrington. With your permission, Miss Stuart, I will now go to interview the servants. May I ask you to await me here, all of you? I shall not be very long.
As the Inspector and the detectives left the room, Haskins appeared to announce Mrs. Frothingham and Count Henri Charlier.
VI
A NEIGHBORS CALL
Oh, is it not terrible? What can I say to comfort you!
Mrs. Frothinghams distressed tones and her air of eager, intense sympathy met with little response from Pauline.
Haviland had been called from the room on an errand and Anitas willingness to receive the neighbors condolences did not seem acceptable. The overdressed, forward-mannered widow continued to direct her attention entirely to Pauline, and that young woman merely surveyed her visitor coolly and replied in monosyllables.
Thanks, she said, and her icy air would have deterred a less determined intruder.
I simply couldnt help running over as soon as I heard the dreadful news. For we are neighbors after all, though not so very well acquainted; and neighbors have a camaraderie of their own, I think.
Yes? said Pauline, and her eyelids fell slightly, with an expression of boredness.
Yes, indeed, Mrs. Frothingham rattled on; and I said to our dear Count, we must run over at once, there may be something we can do for the saddened ones.
Thank you; and had a marble statue been given vocal powers the effect would have been much the same.
Dear friend, continued the unabashed visitor, I know how overcome you must be
I am not overcome at all, said Pauline, rising, and determined to hear no more; and I must beg to be excused, Mrs. Frothingham, as I have many matters to attend to this morning.
Ah, yes, of course, you have. We will not detain you. The Count and I merely called for a moment to inquire
Yes, I quite understand. Miss Frayne will be pleased to answer your inquiries. Thank you both, and good-morning.
With a polite but distant bow, Pauline left the room, and as Count Charlier sprang to hold the door open for her, he, after a moments hesitation, followed her out.
A moment, I beg, Miss Stuart, he said as they reached the hall; You are offended at Mrs. Frothinghams intrusion, but have I not a right to call? Was I not such a friend of Miss Carrington as to justify this tribute of respect to her memory?
Certainly, Count, and Pauline grew a shade kinder, but I am not sufficiently acquainted with your friend to receive her visits.
Ah, no. That is conceded. But, I pray you, tell me of the sad affair. I have heard no details, that is, unless you would rather not.
No, I am not unwilling. You were a good friend of Aunt Lucys she was fond of you, and I am glad to talk to some one. Let us sit here. Pauline indicated a recessed seat in the hall and the pair sat there. She recounted briefly the story of the tragedy and the Count was duly sympathetic. Pauline watched him closely, and discerned great interest but little grief or sorrow.
A burglar, of course, said the Count hearing of the cruel weapon. How could any one attack the charming lady! And the marvelous jewels she wore! They were, of course, stolen?
No; thats the strange part. They were not.
Ah, how splendid! and his absorbed air of satisfaction gave Pauline a thrill of disgust at his cold-bloodedness. And now they are all yours? Those magnificent gems?
The property, most of it, is divided between my cousin and myself.
Your cousin? Mr. Haviland?
No; he is but a distant connection. I mean my first cousin, Mr. Loria, now in Egypt.
Ah, yes, I have heard Miss Carrington refer to him. He will come home?
I do not know. We have cabled of course. Count Charlier, do you remember hearing my aunt say, last evening, that she expected something to happen to her?
I remember, Miss Stuart.
Have you any idea what she meant?
I? But how could I know?
Answer my question, please.
The Counts eyes fell, and he shifted his feet about uneasily. At last he said: It is not pleasant to say such things, but since you ask, I may be permitted to assume that the late Miss Carrington had a regard for my humble self.
And she expected, she hoped that her regard might be returned?
It may be so.
And that last night you might tell her so?
You honor me.
Did you tell her so?
I did not, Miss Stuart. What might have happened had she lived I cannot say, but I did not, last evening, say any word to Miss Carrington of my aspiration to her hand.
Did you say anything that could have been taken as a hint that some time, say, in the near future, you might express such an aspiration?
I may have done so.
Thank you, Count Charlier. I had perhaps no right to ask, but you have answered my rather impertinent questions straightforwardly, and I thank you.
Pauline rose, as if to end the interview. In the doorway appeared Anita. Pauline, she said, I wish you would come back and listen to Mrs. Frothinghams story. It seems to me of decided importance.
You have something to tell me? asked Pauline, returning to the library and looking at the unwelcome neighbor with patient tolerance.
Yes, Miss Stuart. Now, it may be nothing, nothing, I mean, of consequence, that is, you may not think so, but I
Suppose you let me hear it and judge for myself.
Yes. Well, its only this. I was wakeful last night, or rather early this morning, and looking from my bedroom window, which faces this house, I saw a man climb out of a window on the first floor and skulk away among the shrubbery.
At what time was this? and Pauline looked interested at last.
About four oclock. He was to all appearances a burglar
How could you tell? Was it not dark at that hour in the morning?
No; the moon is past full, you know, and it shone brightly in the western sky.