distressed at the tragedy, for her eyes were full of tears, and her
olive-tinted face was pale. She was about thirty years of age; tall,
slim, and graceful. Her beauty was of the Spanish type: straight-browed,
lustrous-eyed, and vivid; a clear olive skin, and full, petulant, crimson
lips. She was fashionably dressed in black, with a black hat.

"The policeman tells me that Miss Fewbanks has not come up from Dellmere
yet," she continued.

"No, madam. We expect her to-morrow. I believe Miss Fewbanks has been too
prostrated to come."

"Dreadful, dreadful," murmured Mrs. Holymead. "I feel I want to know all
about it and yet I am afraid. It is all too terrible for words."

"It has been a terrible shock, madam," said Hill.

"Has the housekeeper come up, Hill?"

"No, madam. She will be up to-morrow with Miss Fewbanks."

"Well, is there nobody I can see?" asked Mrs. Holymead.

Police-Constable Flack was impressed by the spectacle of a beautiful
fashionably-dressed lady in distress.

"The inspector in charge of the case is upstairs, madam," he suggested.
"Perhaps you'd like to see him." It suddenly occurred to him that he had
instructions not to allow any stranger into the house, and police
instructions at such a time were of a nature which classed a friend of
the family as a stranger. "Perhaps I'd better ask him first," he added,
and he went upstairs with the feeling that he had laid himself open to
severe official censure from Inspector Chippenfield.

He came downstairs with a smile on his face and the message that the
inspector would be pleased to see Mrs. Holymead. In his brief interview
with his superior he had contrived to convey the unofficial information
that Mrs. Holymead was a fine-looking woman, and he had no doubt that
Inspector Chippenfield's readiness to see her was due to the impression
this information had made on his unofficial feelings.

Mrs. Holymead was conducted upstairs and announced by the butler.
Inspector Chippenfield greeted her with a low bow of conscious
inferiority, and anticipated Hill in placing a chair for her. His large
red face went a deeper scarlet in colour as he looked at her.

"Flack tells me that you are a friend of the family, Mrs. Holymead.
What is it that I can do for you? I need scarcely say, Mrs. Holymead,
that your distinguished husband is well known to us all. I have had
the pleasure of being cross-examined by him on several occasions.
Anything you wish to know I'll be