"I've no idea. Could it mean suicide?" "No!" thundered the doctor; "her skull was fractured by some one bent on wilful murder! As there is no robbery, we must look for a deeper motive and a cleverer villain than any professional burglar!" IV A PAPER SNAKE On the third floor was the bedroom of the maid, Estelle, and before its locked door stood Pauline and Anita, demanding admittance. There was no response from inside, until Pauline said sternly, "Unless you open this door at once, Estelle, the police will force it open." The key turned, the door moved slowly ajar, and Estelle's face appeared, wearing an expression of amazement. "What is it you say, Miss Pauline? The police? Why?" The maid was making a very evident effort to appear composed, and was succeeding wonderfully well. Her eyes were reddened with weeping,--a condition which a hasty dabbing of powder had not concealed. She was nervously trembling, but her air of injured innocence, if assumed, was admirable. "Estelle," and Pauline loomed tall and magnificent as an accusing angel, "what do you know of your mistress' death?" Estelle gave a shriek and threw herself on her bed in apparent hysterics. "Don't begin that!" ordered Pauline, "sit up here and tell the truth." "But," and the maid sat up, sobbing, "I know nothing. How can I?" "Nonsense! You took the tea-tray to her at eight o'clock. What did you see?" Estelle shrugged her shoulders. "I saw Miss Carrington sitting before her mirror. She, I assumed, was engrossed in reverie, so I set down the tray on a tabouret and departed." "You noticed nothing amiss?" said Anita, staring at the girl. "No; I scarce looked at the lady. She reproved me harshly last night, and I had no wish to annoy her. I set down the tray with haste and silently departed." "You set it down? Who, then, overturned it?" "Overturned? Is it then upset?" Estelle's manner was the impersonal one of the trained servant, who must show surprise at nothing, but it was a trifle overdone. "Estelle, stop posing. Wake up to realities. Miss Carrington is dead! Do you hear? Dead!" "Ah! _Mon Dieu_! Did it then kill her?" and Estelle's calm gave way and she screamed and moaned in wild hysterics. "What can we do with her?" asked Anita, helplessly; "she must know all about the--the----" "The murder," said Pauline calmly. "But she will tell us nothing. It is useless to question her. The Coroner will attend to it, anyway." "The Coroner," and Anita looked frightened. "Will he question all of us?" "Of course he will. And, Anita," Pauline whirled on her suddenly, "what are you going to say was the errand that took you to Aunt Lucy's room after one o'clock last night?" "I! Nothing of the sort! I was not in her room after we left it together." "I saw you. Don't trouble to deny it," and Pauline dropped her eyelids as one bored by a conversation.