As always, when roused, Eunice looked strikingly beautiful, her eyes shone and her cheeks showed a crimson flush. She drew herself up haughtily, and clenching her hands on the back of a chair, as she stood facing Stone, she said, “If you have come here to browbeat me--to discuss my personal characteristics, you may go! I’ve no intention of being brought to book by a detective!” “Why, Eunice, don’t talk that way,” begged Aunt Abby. “I’m sure Mr. Stone is trying to get you freed from the awful thing that is hanging over you!” “There’s no awful thing hanging over me! I don’t know what you mean, Aunt Abby! There can’t be anything worse than to have a stranger come in here and remark on my unfortunate weakness in sometimes giving way to my sense of righteous indignation! I resent it! I won’t have it! Mason, you brought Mr. Stone here--now take him away!” “There, there, Eunice, you are not quite yourself, and I don’t wonder. This scene is too much for you. I’m sure you will make allowance, Mr. Stone, for Mrs. Embury’s overwrought nerves--” “Of course,” and Fleming Stone spoke coldly, without sympathy or even apparent interest. “Let Mrs. Embury retire to her room, if she wishes.” They had all returned to the big living-room, and Stone stood near a front window, now and then glancing out to the trees in Park Avenue below. “I don’t want to retire to my room!” Eunice cried. “I don’t want to be set aside as if I were a child! I did want Mr. Stone to investigate this whole matter, but I don’t now--I’ve changed my mind! Mason, tell him to go away!” “No, dear,” and Elliott looked at her kindly, “you can’t change your mind like that. Mr. Stone has the case, and he will go on with it and when you come to yourself again, you will be glad, for he will free you from suspicion by finding the real criminal.” “I don’t want him to! I don’t want the criminal found! I want it to be an unsolved mystery, always and forever!” “No;” Elliott spoke more firmly. “No, Eunice, that is not what you want.” “Stop! I know what I want--without your telling me! You overstep your privileges, Mason! I’m not an imbecile, to be ignored, set aside, overruled! I won’t stand it! Mr. Stone, you are discharged!” She stood, pointing to the door with a gesture that would have been melodramatic, had she not been so desperately in earnest. The soft black sleeve fell away from her soft white arm, and her out-stretched hand was steady and unwavering as she stood silent, but quivering with suppressed rage. “Eunice,” and going to her, Elliott took the cold white hand in his own. “Eunice,” he said, and no more, but his eyes looked deeply into hers. She gazed steadily for a moment, and then her face softened, and she turned aside, and sank wearily into a chair. “Do as you like,” she said, in a low murmur. “I’ll leave it to you, Mason. Let Mr. Stone go ahead.”