“It scarcely seems loyal to Mr. Hall for me to say it,” she returned, and the tears were in her eyes. “But this is all confidential. Well, Uncle Joseph said that Gregory only wanted to marry me for my fortune, and that the new will would prove this. Of course I denied that Mr. Hall was so mercenary, and then we had a good deal of an altercation. But it was not very different from many discussions we had had on the same subject, only Uncle was more decided, and said he had asked Mr. Randolph to come the next morning and draw up the new will. I left him still angry--he wouldn't even say good-night to me--and now I blame myself for not being more gentle, and trying harder to make peace. But it annoyed me to have him call Gregory mercenary--” “Because you knew it was true,” I said quietly. She turned white to the very lips. “You are unnecessarily impertinent,” she said. “I am,” I agreed. “I beg your pardon.” But I had discovered that she did realize her lover's true nature. “And then you went to your room, and stayed there?” I went on, with a meaning emphasis on the last clause. “Yes,” she said; “and so, you see, what I have told you casts no light on the mystery. I only told you so as to explain the bits of the yellow rose. I feared, from what you said, that Mr. Hall's name might possibly be brought into discussion.” “Why, he was not in West Sedgwick that night,” I said. “Where was he?” she countered quickly. “I don't know. He refuses to tell. Of course you must see that his absolute refusal to tell where he was that night is, to say the least, an unwise proceeding.” “He won't even tell me where he was,” she said, sighing. “But it doesn't matter. He wasn't here.” “That's just it,” I rejoined. “If he was not here, it would be far better for him to tell where he really was. For the refusal to tell raises a question that will not be downed, except by an alibi. I don't want to be cruel, Miss Lloyd, but I must make you see that as the inquiry proceeds, the actions of both Mr. Hall and yourself will be subjected to very close scrutiny, and though perhaps undue attention will be paid to trifles, yet the trifles must be explained.” I was so sorry for the girl, that, in my effort not to divulge my too great sympathy, I probably used a sterner tone than I realized. At any rate, I had wakened her at last to a sense of the danger that threatened her and her lover, and now, if she would let me, I would do all in my power to save them both. But I must know all she could tell me. “When did Mr. Hall leave you?” I asked. “You mean the day--last Tuesday?” “Yes?” “He left here about half-past five. He had been in the office with Uncle Joseph all the afternoon, and at five o'clock he came in here for a cup of tea with me. He almost always comes in at tea-time. Then he left about half-past five, saying he was going to New York on the six o'clock train.” “For what purpose?”