Detective and mystery stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"I think," said I, "that the young man Howard stands in a very
unfortunate position. Circumstances certainly do look very black against
him."
"It is dreadful, unprecedently dreadful. I do not know what to think of
it all. The Van Burnams have borne so good a name, and Franklin
especially is held in such high esteem. I don't think anything more
shocking has ever happened in this city, do you, Miss Butterworth? You
saw it all, and should know. Poor, poor Mrs. Van Burnam!"
"She is to be pitied!" I remarked, my eyes fixed on the immovable face
of my patient.
"When I heard that a young woman had been found dead in the Van Burnam
mansion," Miss Althorpe pursued with such evident interest in this new
theme that I did not care to interrupt her unless driven to it by some
token of consciousness on the part of my patient, "my thoughts flew
instinctively to Howard's wife. Though why, I cannot say, for I never
had any reason to expect so tragic a termination to their marriage
relations. And I cannot believe now that he killed her, can you, Miss
Butterworth? Howard has too much of the gentleman in him to do a brutal
thing, and there was brutality as well as adroitness in the perpetration
of this crime. Have you thought of that, Miss Butterworth?"
"Yes," I nodded, "I have looked at the crime on all sides."
"Mr. Stone," said she, "feels dreadfully over the part he was forced to
play at the inquest. But he had no choice, the police would have his
testimony."
"That was right," I declared.
"It has made us doubly anxious to have Howard free himself. But he does
not seem able to do so. If his wife had only known----"
Was there a quiver in the lids I was watching? I half raised my hand and
then I let it drop again, convinced that I had been mistaken. Miss
Althorpe at once continued:
"She was not a bad-hearted woman, only vain and frivolous. She had set
her heart on ruling in the great leather-merchant's house, and she did
not know how to bear her disappointment. I have sympathy for her myself.
When I saw her----"
Saw her! I started, upsetting a small work-basket at my side which for
once I did not stop to pick up.
"You have seen her!" I repeated, dropping my eyes from the patient to
fix them in my unbounded astonishment on Miss Althorpe's face.
"Yes, more than once. She was--if she were living I would not repeat
this--a nursery governess in a family where I once visited. That was
before her marriage; before she had met either Howard or Franklin Van
Burnam."
I was so overwhelmed, that for once I found difficulty in speaking. I
glanced from her to the white form in the shrouded bed, and back again
in ever-growing astonishment and dismay.
"You have seen her!" I at last reiterated in what I meant to be a
whisper, but which fell little short of being a cry, "and you took in
this girl?"
Her surprise at this burst was almost equal to mine.
"Yes, why not; what have they in common?"
I sank back, my house of cards was trembling to its foundations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account