y and dressing room to be closed,
and left untouched until the proper officer shall have made proper
investigations; and then she has ordered her maid to serve her with a
cup of strong coffee in the morning room; and, considering the
glittering wealth she has just been bereaved of, Miss Wardour looks very
calm and unruffled, and sips her coffee with a relish.

Presently the door opens and a lady enters: a very fat lady, with florid
complexion, restless, inquisitive, but good-humored gray eyes, and
plenty of dark crinkly hair, combed low about her ears.

This is Mrs. Honor Aliston, a distant relative of Miss Wardour's, who
has found a most delightful home with that young lady, ever since the
death of Grandmamma Wardour, for Constance Wardour has been an orphan
since her childhood.

Mrs. Aliston comes forward, rather rolls forward, and sinking, with a
grunt of satisfaction, into the largest chair at hand, fixes two gray
eyes upon the heiress, which that young lady, perceiving, says: "Well?"

"Don't say 'well' to me. I've just come down from the mansard," gasped
the widow Aliston.

"From the _mansard_?"

"Yes," fanning herself briskly with the pages of an uncut magazine.

Constance laughs musically. "Why, Aunt Honor, you didn't expect to see
the robbers running across the country, did you?"

"Not I," disdainfully. "I wanted to see how long it took the news to get
to--Mapleton."

"Oh!" indifferently.

"And--they're coming."

"So soon!"

"So soon! and the sheriff, or constable, or coroner,--_who_ is it that
make these investigations? He's coming, at any rate, whoever he is, with
a mob at his heels. Who did you send for, Con?"

"For Mr. O'Meara, of course, and--I would like to see Ray Vandyck."

"What for?"

Constance laughed. "Oh, I am fond of Ray, you know, and I think he would
offer some unique suggestions; besides--dear me, auntie!" breaking off
suddenly, "I wish this farce was at an end."

Mrs. Aliston's gray eyes twinkled. "Why, child, you may be thankful it's
no worse. Suppose--"

"Hush, Aunt Honor. 'Walls have ears,' you know. I have half a mind to
take Mr. Lamotte into my--"

"Constance Wardour, _what_ are you thinking about? 'Take Mr. Lamotte!'
that means Frank Lamotte and Madame Lamotte, and _that_ means all the
rest."

"I said '_half_ a mind,' auntie. I don't think the notion will ever get
its growth. I think we will see the end of this affair through our own
spectacles; but--hear that no