she had been right in
understanding him to say that there was news in regard to the murder of
Mrs. Clemmens?

Subduing, by a strong inward effort, every token of the emotion which
her own introduction of this topic naturally evoked, he replied in his
easiest tones:

"Yes; there was an inquest held to-day, and the authorities evidently
think they have discovered the person who killed her." And obliging
himself to meet half-way the fate that awaited him, he bestowed upon the
lady before him a casual glance that hid beneath its easy politeness the
greatest anxiety of his life.

The test worked well. From the pallor of sickness, grief, or
apprehension, her complexion whitened to the deadlier hue of mortal
terror.

"Impossible!" her lips seemed to breathe; and Mr. Byrd could almost
fancy he saw the hair rise on her forehead.

Cursing in his heart the bitter necessity that had forced him into this
duty, he was about to address her in a way calculated to break the spell
occasioned by his last words, when the rich and tuneful voice of the
melodious singer rose suddenly on the air, and they heard the words:

"Come rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;
Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast,
And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last."

Instantly Mr. Byrd perceived that he should not be obliged to speak.
Though the music, or possibly the words, struck her like a blow, it
likewise served to recall her to herself. Dropping her gaze, which had
remained fixed upon his own, she turned her face aside, saying with
forced composure:

"This near contact with crime is dreadful." Then slowly, and with a
quietness that showed how great was her power of self-control when she
was not under the influence of surprise, she inquired: "And who do they
think this person is? What name do they presume to associate with the
murderer of this woman?"

With something of the feeling of a surgeon who nerves himself to bury
the steel in his patient's quivering flesh, he gave his response
unhesitatingly.

"A gentleman's, I believe. A young man connected with her, in some
strange way, by financial interests. A Mr. Hildreth, of
Toledo--Gouverneur Hildreth, I think they call him."

It was not the name she expected. He saw this by the relaxation that
took place in all her features, by the look of almost painful relief
that f