light inclination of her head--"wishes to ask you a few
questions."

"Me?" Her voice had in it a note of alarm which was not lost upon the
man from Scotland Yard, who regarded her with closest scrutiny.

"I'll not be long, Miss. I think you may be able to clear up a few
points that at present I cannot quite understand."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you much," she said, gravely.

"Possibly more than you think, Miss. In the first place I understand
that your father had promised your hand in marriage to Mr. Ashton."

Miss Temple favored me with a quick and bitter glance of reproach. I
knew that she felt that this information had come from me.

"Yes," she replied, "that is true."

"Did you desire to marry him?"

The girl looked at her father in evident uncertainty.

"I--I--Why should I answer such a question?" She turned to the
detective with scornful eyes. "It is purely my own affair, and of no
consequence--now."

"That is true, Miss," replied the Sergeant, with deeper gravity. "Still,
I do not see that the truth can do anyone any harm."

Miss Temple flushed and hesitated a moment, then turned upon her
questioner with a look of anger. "I did not wish to marry Mr. Ashton,"
she cried. "I would rather have died, than have married him."

McQuade had made her lose her temper, for which I inwardly hated him.
His next question left her cold with fear.

"When did you last see Mr. Ashton alive?" he demanded.

The girl hesitated, turned suddenly pale, then threw back her head with
a look of proud determination. "I refuse to answer that question," she
said defiantly.

Her father had been regarding her with amazed surprise. "Muriel," he
said, in a trembling voice--"what do you mean? You left Mr. Ashton and
myself in the dining-room at a little after nine." She made no reply.

Sergeant McQuade slowly took from his pocket the handkerchief he had
found in Mr. Ashton's room, and, handing it to her, said simply: "Is
this yours, Miss?"

Miss Temple took it, mechanically.

"Yes," she said.

"It was found beside the murdered man's body," said the detective as he
took the handkerchief from her and replaced it in his pocket.

For a moment, I thought Miss Temple was going to faint, and I
instinctively moved toward her. She recovered herself at once. "What are
you aiming at?" she exclaimed. "Is it possible that you suppose _I_ had
anything to do with Mr. Ashton's death?"

"I have not said so, Miss. This handkerchief was fo