"Yes; it is a favorite one with her. An heirloom, from a Colonial ancestor. It encircled the entire back of her head, when whole." "At what time was she killed?" asked Gray Haviland. He had stood, till now, a silent listener to the conversation between Pauline and the Doctor. "Oh, many hours ago," returned Stanton; "six or eight at least. Evidently she was preparing for bed, and trying the effect of some new finery." "Those things are not new," put in Anita; "she has had them all a long time. But she must have been admiring herself, for when we found her she had on all her finest jewels." "What?" cried Dr. Stanton; "where are they?" "I took most of them off," replied Pauline, quietly, "and put them in the safe. If the police people must come, I am not willing to have a fortune in jewels here to tempt their cupidity. And I have a right. It is no secret that my cousin Carrington and I are her heirs. But that snake perplexes me beyond all else. If you knew her aversion to them,--even pictured ones----" "I do know it," returned the doctor; "I have often heard her say so. Ah," as he stepped carefully about, "she _was_ adorning herself; see, here is powder scattered on the floor. She used this powder-puff, shaking it over the rug and floor." "I saw that the first thing!" cried Pauline, excitedly; "and there was a----" she stopped, looking in amazement at the white dust on the floor. For where she had seen a distinct footprint, as of a stockinged foot, there was now merely a blurred whirl! Some one had obliterated that footprint! "A what?" asked the doctor, sharply. "Nothing. A--a lot of powder spilled,--I was going to say." Gray Haviland looked at her. "Tell the truth, Pauline," he said. "I have," she replied, with a calm quite equalling his own. "Must we have the Coroner, Dr. Stanton?" "Yes, yes, of course; I will telephone at once. There will be police and detectives,--oh, it is a terrible case! Nothing must be touched, nothing! If there is _any_ clue to this mystery, do not let it be disturbed." "But you say it was without doubt a burglar who did it," said Anita, her wide eyes gleaming blue. "It must have been." "Then why were none of her jewels stolen?" "Bless my soul!" and Dr. Stanton looked as if a bomb had exploded at his feet. "Sure enough! It cannot have been a burglar! Who, then? What other motive than robbery----" "It _was_ a burglar," declared Pauline, "and he was--he was frightened away by--by a noise--or something----" "Not likely!" said Anita, "with all those gems in easy reach!" "The Coroner and the police must get here at once!" and the doctor wiped his perspiring brow. "Never have I seen such an inexplicable state of affairs! Was--was Miss Carrington indisposed at all last evening? Did she say or do anything unusual?" "Not at all," began Pauline, but Anita interrupted; "Yes, she did! She said, 'You little know what's going to happen to me! To-morrow you may sing another tune!'" "What did she mean by that?"