“But, you must pardon me if I seem intrusive, I am assuming that we are at one in this matter of investigation?” Corson spoke sharply. “Of course,” agreed Bates. “Then I must ask if you are engaged to Miss Everett.” “He is not!” Miss Prall almost shrieked the words. “He is not and never will be. The death of his uncle, deplorable as are the circumstances, leaves Mr Bates free to pursue his occupation with all his time and attention. He will not think of other matters for a year at least, and then the lady in the case will _not_ be Miss Everett!” The Grenadier sat stiffly upright, and her black beady eyes, darted from her nephew’s face to that of the detective as if challenging contradiction from either of them. Bates replied only by a shrug of his shoulders, but Corson said, “I assume then, Miss Prall, that outside the natural shock of the tragedy you feel a certain relief that your nephew is now the heir to great wealth and can pursue his career? But I understand his uncle wished him to associate himself with the Bun business.” “Quite so,” Letitia snapped. “The late Sir Herbert was deeply interested in my nephew, but he did not understand or appreciate his achievements and possibilities in his own chosen line. Wherefore, I am rejoiced that now my nephew can proceed unhindered.” “But, I believe the late Sir Herbert favored the match between Mr Bates and Miss Everett?” “Drop that!” Richard blazed forth. “Leave that lady’s name out of this conversation!” “Yes, indeed!” Letitia cried; “I forbid the mention of the name of Everett in my presence!” “Yet it may be necessary,” Corson went on, calmly. “You know, Miss Prall, the ends of justice may call for the mention of a name——” “What in the world can the mention of that name have to do with justice?” Eliza broke in. “You don’t connect the Everetts with the murder, do you?” “I don’t connect any one with the murder, as yet,” Corson replied, “but it is my great desire to find some connection, and so I have to make inquiries.” “If that’s your motive, I still must request that you omit the name of Everett from your conversation,” said Bates. “Look here, Corson, are you getting anywhere, or aren’t you?” “I am,” was the quiet reply; “now, Miss Prall, you’ll be obliged to answer a few questions, whether you like it or not.” Corson’s tone, though courteous, was severe, and the Grenadier, while not frightened, gave him a look of curiosity and intense interest. “Go on,” she said, briefly. “This feud between yourself and Mrs Everett is a matter of long standing, I believe. You can’t, therefore, object to my reference to it. What was its cause?” “Oh, it’s so old now, that its cause is sunk in oblivion.” Letitia smiled sourly. “But it has been added to by other causes as time went on, and thus new fuel has kept the fire burning.” “Keep the home fires burning,” said Richard, with a mocking smile at his aunt, who heeded it not.