Janet burst into tears. "Oh, aunt, why do you speak so to me? It is as though you believe me guilty!" "Don't be a simpleton, Janet," rebuked Cattledon, in softer tones. "If I did not know you were not, and could not, be guilty, should I have brought you here under Miss Deveen's roof? What vexes me so much is to see you look as though you were guilty--with your white face, and your hysterics, and your trembling hands and lips. Get a little spirit into yourself, child: the police won't harm you." Catching up the keys from the table, she went out again, leaving Janet sobbing. I stood forward. She started when she saw me, and tried to dry her eyes. "I am sorry, Miss Carey, that all this bother is affecting you. Why are you so sad?" "I--have gone through a great deal of trouble lately;--and been ill," she answered, with hesitation, arresting her tears. "Can I do anything for you?--help you in any way?" "You are very kind, Mr. Ludlow; you have been kind to me all along. There's nothing any one can do. Sometimes I wish I could die." "Die!" "There is so much unhappiness in the world!" George's voice was heard in the hall with the policeman. Janet vanished. But whether it was through the floor or out at the door, I declare I did not see then, and don't quite know to this day. I and Cattledon were allowed to assist at the conference between Miss Deveen and the policeman: a dark man with a double chin and stripes on his coat-sleeve. After hearing particulars, and examining the room and the mess it was in, he inquired how many servants were kept, and whether Miss Deveen had confidence in them. She told him the number, and said she had confidence in all. He went into the kitchen, put what questions he pleased to the servants, looked at the fastenings of the doors generally, examined the outside of the window and walked about the garden. George called him Mr. Stone--which appeared to be his name. Mr. Stone had nothing of a report to bring Miss Deveen. "It's one of two things, ma'am," he said. "Either this has been done by somebody in your own house; or else the neighbours are playing tricks upon you. I can't come to any other conclusion. The case is peculiar, you see, in-so-far as that nothing has been stolen." "It is very peculiar indeed," returned Miss Deveen. "I should have said--I should feel inclined to say--that the culprit is some one in the house----" "It's the most unlikely thing in the world, that it should have been any one in the house," struck in Miss Deveen, not allowing him to go on. "To suspect any of the young people who are visiting me, would be simply an insult. And my servants would no more play the trick than I or Miss Cattledon would play it." "Failing indoors then, we must look out," said Mr. Stone, after listening patiently. "And that brings up more difficulty, ma'am. For I confess I don't see how they could get the windows and shutters open from the outside, and leave no marks of damage."