to
say for himself," cried another in a strictly judicial tone. "How do you
know as he came to this house at all?"

"Miss Perkins says he did, and Mrs. Phillips too; they saw him go into
the gate."

"And what else did they see? I warrant he wasn't the only beggar that
was roaming round this morning."

"No; there was a tin peddler in the street, for I saw him my own self,
and Mrs. Clemmens standing in the door flourishing her broom at him. She
was mighty short with such folks. Wouldn't wonder if some of the unholy
wretches killed her out of spite. They're a wicked lot, the whole of
them."

"Widow Clemmens had a quick temper, but she had a mighty good heart
notwithstanding. See how kind she was to them Hubbells."

"And how hard she was to that Pratt girl."

"Well, I know, but----" And so on and so on, in a hum and a buzz about
the head of Mr. Byrd, who, engaged in thought seemingly far removed from
the subject in hand, stood leaning against the fence, careless and
_insouciant_. Suddenly there was a lull, then a short cry, then a
woman's voice rose clear, ringing, and commanding, and Mr. Byrd caught
the following words:

"What is this I hear? Mrs. Clemmens dead? Struck down by some wandering
tramp? Murdered and in her own house?"

In an instant, every eye, including Mr. Byrd's, was fixed upon the
speaker. The crowd parted, and the young girl, who had spoken from the
street, came into the gate. She was a remarkable-looking person. Tall,
large, and majestic in every proportion of an unusually noble figure,
she was of a make and possessed a bearing to attract attention had she
borne a less striking and beautiful countenance. As it was, the glance
lingered but a moment on the grand curves and lithe loveliness of that
matchless figure, and passed at once to the face. Once there, it did not
soon wander; for though its beauty was incontestable, the something that
lay behind that beauty was more incontestable still, and held you, in
spite of yourself, long after you had become acquainted with the broad
white brow, the clear, deep, changing gray eye, the straight but
characteristic nose, and the ruddy, nervous lip. You felt that, young
and beautiful as she was, and charming as she might be, she was also one
of nature's unsolvable mysteries--a woman whom you might study, obey,
adore, but whom you could never hope to understand; a Sphinx without an
Oedipus. She was dressed in dark green, and held her gloves in her
hand. H