She
dreaded opening it. It was a relief to feel that at least she had an
excuse for not doing so while her guests were in the house.

Mrs. Norbury recognized at once that Antony was likely to be the more
sympathetic listener; and when tea was over, and Bill and Angela had
been dispatched to the garden with the promptness and efficiency of
the expert, dear Mr. Gillingham found himself on the sofa beside her,
listening to many things which were of even greater interest to him than
she could possibly have hoped.

"It is terrible, terrible," she said. "And to suggest that dear Mr.
Ablett--"

Antony made suitable noises.

"You've seen Mr. Ablett for yourself. A kinder, more warmhearted man--"

Antony explained that he had not seen Mr. Ablett.

"Of course, yes, I was forgetting. But, believe me, Mr. Gillingham, you
can trust a woman's intuition in these matters."

Antony said that he was sure of this.

"Think of my feelings as a mother."

Antony was thinking of Miss Norbury's feelings as a daughter, and
wondering if she guessed that her affairs were now being discussed with
a stranger. Yet what could he do? What, indeed, did he want to do except
listen, in the hope of learning? Mark engaged, or about to be engaged!
Had that any bearing on the events of yesterday? What, for instance,
would Mrs. Norbury have thought of brother Robert, that family skeleton?
Was this another reason for wanting brother Robert out of the way?

"I never liked him, never!"

"Never liked?" said Antony, bewildered.

"That cousin of his Mr. Cayley."

"Oh!"

"I ask you, Mr. Gillingham, am I the sort of woman to trust my little
girl to a man who would go about shooting his only brother?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't, Mrs. Norbury."

"If there has been any shooting done, it has been done by somebody
else."

Antony looked at her inquiringly.

"I never liked him," said Mrs. Norbury firmly. "Never." However, thought
Antony to himself, that didn't quite prove that Cayley was a murderer.

"How did Miss Norbury get on with him?" he asked cautiously.

"There was nothing in that at all," said Miss Norbury's mother
emphatically. "Nothing. I would say so to anybody."

"Oh, I beg your pardon. I never meant--"

"Nothing. I can say that for dear Angela with perfect confidence.
Whether he made advances--" She broke off with a shrug of her plump
shoulders.

Antony waited eagerly.

"Naturally they met. Possibly he might have--I don't know. But