frightened faces, the men
standing a little farther in the rear, while in a dim corner,
partially concealed by the heavy portieres and unseen by any one
excepting the servants, was the detective.
When everything was in readiness, Mr. Whitney entered the room with
the gentleman who had accompanied him out from the city and followed
by the London guests. In the lead were Ralph Mainwaring and his
son, the entrance of the latter causing a small stir of interest and
excitement, as a score of pencils at once began to rapidly sketch
the features of the young Englishman, the intended heir of Hugh
Mainwaring. The young man's face wore an expression of unconcern,
but his father's features were set and severe. To him, the loss of
the will meant something more than the forfeiture of the exclusive
ownership of a valuable estate; it meant the overthrow and demolition
of one of his pet schemes, cherished for twenty-one years, just on
the eve of its fulfilment; and those who knew Ralph Mainwaring knew
that to thwart his plans was a dangerous undertaking.
Mr. Thornton followed, escorting Mrs. Mainwaring and her daughter,
the cold, gray eyes of Isabel Mainwaring flashing a look of haughty
disdain on the faces about her. Bringing up the rear was Mrs. Hogarth
with her two charges, Edith Thornton and Winifred Carleton, the face
of the latter lighted with an intelligent, sympathetic interest in
her surroundings.
Harry Scott next entered, pausing in the doorway for an instant,
while just behind him appeared Mrs. LaGrange. The room was already
crowded, and Miss Carleton, seated near the door, with a quick
glance invited the young secretary to a vacant chair by her side,
which he gracefully accepted, but not before a tiny note had been
thrust into his hand, unseen by any one excepting the detective.
Pale, but with all her accustomed hauteur, Mrs. LaGrange,
accompanied by her son, passed slowly around the group of reporters,
ignoring the chair offered by the attorney, and seated herself in a
position as remote as possible from the guests of the house and
commanding a full view of the servants. Her gown was noticeable
for its elegance, and her jewelled hands toyed daintily with a
superb fan, from whose waving black plumes a perfume, subtle and
exquisite, was wafted to every part of the room.
In the silence that followed, the coroner, with a few brief words,
called for the first witness, George Hardy. A young man, with a
frank f
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