"Yes," said Mrs. Frothingham, frankly; "and of Miss Stuart, and of the Count's intimacy over there. I had never even been in the house. So I went over there and looked in the windows. I saw them playing cards and later strolling about the rooms. The great door stood a little ajar and I cautiously stepped inside. It was vulgarly curious, but it was no crime. As I stood in the hall I saw some one approaching, and stepped up a few steps of the staircase. It was all so beautiful that I looked at the tapestries and decorations. I remember thinking that if any one challenged me, I should tell the truth, and say that I came in to look, as a neighbor ought to have a right to do." "Never mind the ethics of the case, Mrs. Frothingham, stick to facts. Did you go upstairs?" "No, indeed, only up four or five steps, just to the turn of the staircase." "But Mr. Illsley saw you coming down." "Only those few steps. He couldn't have seen me coming from the top of the stair, for I didn't go up so far." "You spoke of being jealous of Miss Stuart. Why?" "Because Count Charlier is in love with her." "With Miss Stuart?" "Yes; he was making up to Miss Carrington for her money, but he is really in love with Miss Stuart." Mrs. Frothingham shook her head doggedly, as if determined to tell this, even though it should redound to the Count's discredit. And it did. "Then," said Fleming Stone, "that adds motive to the theory of the Count's guilt. If he is in love with Miss Stuart, might he not have been tempted to put Miss Carrington out of the way, that Miss Stuart should inherit the fortune, and be the bride of his choice?" "Indeed, yes, that is a possibility," and Fleming Stone saw at last, that this woman either suspected the Count's guilt or wished to make it appear so. Again, the sudden thought struck him, suppose she was so jealous of the Count's attentions to Miss Carrington, that she went to Garden Steps with the intent of killing the lady. Suppose she did go upstairs, although she denied it, and put the poison in the sandwich. Surely, she had opportunity. Surely, she would now deny it. Fleming Stone sighed. He hated a case where the principal witnesses were women. One never could tell when they were lying. A man, now, was much more transparent and his evidence more easily weighed. However, if this woman desired to turn suspicion toward Count Charlier, it was either because she suspected him, or was implicated herself. In either case, her word was not worth much, and Stone soon took his leave to hunt a more promising field. Returning to Garden Steps, he found that Pauline had received a letter from her cousin in Egypt. "I am afraid," she said, as she handed Stone the letter to read, "that my cousin Carr will think we are not accomplishing much. Read the letter, Mr. Stone, and if you say so, I will ask Mr. Loria to come home." Glad to read the letter from this half heir to the Carrington fortune, Stone took the sheet. It ran: Dear Polly: