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"Battersea, sir." "God knows!" stammered Jen, turning his horrified gaze on the poor girl. He did not know what to do. Isabella was in a dangerous state of hysteria. She had on but a loose white dressing-gown, and her presence in the house at three o'clock in the morning was enough to overpower Jen's sense of the reasonable, independent of the crowning horror of the missing corpse. At this juncture the much-needed aid came from without. David Sarby rushed into the room. "Now we can go on our spree with clear minds," said Judith, as they sat down to breakfast in the sunny sitting-room. "It's a perfect day and Rockham will look too sweet for anything.".

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"She isn't in mourning," said Elinor, making a discovery. "I wonder who she is. She's impressive enough to be the president of the board, and Bruce says that's the most important person in the place." "After!" replied Isabella, with some hesitation; then abruptly left the major's side to exchange a few words with Dido. Jen, as was natural, looked after her with a glance full of doubt and suspicion. Notwithstanding her love for Maurice and her expressed desire to avenge his death by hunting down the assassin, she appeared to be anything but frank in the matter. In plain words, her conduct suggested to Jen's mind an idea that she knew more than she cared to talk about; and that such half-hinted knowledge implicated her mother. In which case--but here Dido interrupted Jen's meditations. Patricia shook her head. "She's with Griffin and Bottle Green," she answered under her breath. "What do you want her for?" A chair was brought and another luncheon ordered, and soon they were chattering as gayly as though they had all known each other for ages. Elinor inquired for Mr. Lindley, who by chance had been Mr. Hilton's room-mate at college, and heard that he was in France on his belated honeymoon..