"About that time." Kitty's foot tapped restlessly against the rug. "She was in her bedroom, and I called to her as I went down the staircase." "What did you say to her?" Mitchell was taking mental note of Kitty's well-groomed appearance and her nervous handling of her handkerchief. "I told her not to sit up late." Kitty did not meet the inspector's eyes. "Aunt Susan seldom went to bed before one or two o'clock in the morning; she claimed it rested her to sit up and read in the library." "Were the servants here when you left the house?" asked Mitchell. "Servants?" A ghost of a smile touched Kitty's lips. "Aunty would not employ any one but old Oscar. He never comes until about seven in the morning, and leaves immediately after dinner." "And was it your custom to leave your aunt alone in the house at night?" Mitchell was blind to the heavy frown with which McLean listened to his continued questioning of Kitty. The surgeon guessed the tension she was under and dreaded a breakdown. "Occasionally, yes." Observing Mitchell's expression, Kitty added hastily, "Why not? Aunt Susan feared no one." "And she was murdered." Inspector Mitchell eyed her keenly; then glanced at his companions--both men were watching Kitty. "Or killed herself--" Kitty spoke with an effort. "How did you learn of my aunt's death?" Inspector Mitchell seemed not to hear the question and Kitty repeated it more peremptorily. "We received a telephone message, at Headquarters," he stated finally. "I was in the office at the time and came over to investigate." He paused dramatically. "We found your aunt sitting dead in that chair." He walked over and touched the throne-shaped chair. Kitty did not follow him except with her eyes. "How did you get in?" asked Craige, walking toward him. "We found the key of the front door in the lock _on the outside_," replied Mitchell. "What!" Kitty sprang to her feet. "Odd, wasn't it?" Mitchell was watching her closely. "Very," briefly. Kitty paused in thought. "What was the nature of the message you received over the telephone, Inspector?" "To come at once to 'Rose Hill,'" Mitchell spoke with impressiveness. "That a crime had been committed." "Good heavens!" Kitty took a step in his direction, but before she could speak again, Mitchell held up his hand for silence. "Did I understand, Miss Baird, that you and your aunt occupied this house alone at night?" he asked. "We did." "And you left here between three and four o'clock on Sunday--yesterday afternoon?" "Yes." "And the last time you saw your aunt she was alive?" "Yes." "Do you employ a female servant?" "No." Inspector Mitchell regarded the girl in silence. She bore his scrutiny with outward composure. "Miss Baird," he spoke slowly, weighing his words. "I took the message over the telephone to come at once to 'Rose Hill'--that a crime had been committed here. The message was given by a woman."