Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia ButterworthGreen, Anna Katharine
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Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction
This theory once established in my mind, I applied myself to a
consideration of the means at my disposal for determining its validity.
The simplest, surest, but least satisfactory to one of my nature was to
summon the police and have the house thoroughly searched, but this
involved, in case I had been deceived by appearances--as was possible
even to a woman of my experience and discrimination,--a scandal and an
opprobrium which I would be the last to inflict upon Althea's children,
unless justice to the rest of the world demanded it.
It was in consideration of this very fact, perhaps, that I had been
chosen for this duty instead of some regular police spy. Mr. Gryce, as I
very well knew, has made it his rule of life never to risk the
reputation of any man or woman without reasons so excellent as to carry
their own exoneration with them, and should I, a woman, with full as
much heart as himself, if not quite as much brain (at least in the
estimation of people in general), by any premature exposure of my
suspicions, subject these young friends of mine to humiliations they are
far too weak and too poor to rise above?
No, rather would I trust a little longer to my own perspicacity and make
sure by the use of my own eyes that the situation called for the
interference I had, as you may say, at the end of the cord I wore about
my neck.
Lucetta had not asked me how I came to be back so much sooner than she
had reason to expect me. The unlooked-for arrival of her lover had
probably put all idea of her former plans out of her head. I therefore
gave her the shortest of explanations when we met at the dinner table.
Nothing further seemed to be necessary, for the girls were even more
abstracted than before, and William positively boorish till a warning
glance from Loreen recalled him to his better self, which meant silence.
The afternoon was spent in very much the same way as the evening before.
Neither sister remained an instant with me after the other entered my
company, and though the alternations were less frequent than at that
time, their peculiarities were more marked and less naturally accounted
for. It was while Loreen was with me that I made the suggestion which
had been hovering on my lips ever since the noon.
"I consider this," I observed, in one of the pauses of our more than
fitful conversation, "one of the most interesting houses it has ever
been my good fortune to enter. Would you mind my roaming about a bit
just to enjoy the old-time flavor of its great empty rooms? I know they
are mostly closed and possibly unfurnished, but to a connoisseur like
myself in colonial architecture, this rather adds to, than detracts
from, their interest."
"Impossible," she was going to say, but caught herself back in time and
changed the imperative word to one more conciliatory if equally
unyielding.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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