The girl appeared slightly embarrassed as she answered: "I did not feel like paying visits just at the moment, and besides I had not enough money to carry me as far as Bar Harbor. My maid had most of my money, and I was no longer willing to borrow from my visitor, as I had intended doing." "Excuse my questioning you still further," said the Coroner, with a glance of admiration at the beautiful girl, who was fretting under the examination, "but, why, then, didn't you return to your home?" "I did not wish to do so." Then, catching Mr. Merritt's eye, she added: "I had been a good deal upset by--by what had occurred the night before and felt the need of a day to myself. Besides, I had some shopping to do, and thought this a good opportunity to do it. I am going home this morning." "Thank you, Miss Derwent," exclaimed the Coroner, heartily; "your explanations are perfectly satisfactory. Only you have forgotten to tell us the gentleman's name." "Why need you know his name?" she demanded, passionately, "you will soon find out who this unknown man is. There must be hundreds of people in this city who knew him. Why should I tell you the name of my visitor? I refuse to do so." "Miss Derwent is quite right," interposed the detective, with unexpected decision; "once convinced that the dead man and her friend are not identical, and the latter's name ceases to be of any importance to us." "Quite so, quite so," the Coroner rather grudgingly assented. "Can I go now?" she inquired. "Certainly," said the Coroner, cordially. "Good-day, Miss." I was just going to offer myself as an escort when Mr. Merritt stepped quietly forward, and possessed himself of the young lady's bag. With a distant bow, that included impartially the Coroner and myself, Miss Derwent left the room. "Remember Mrs. Atkins," the detective murmured as he prepared to follow her. I nodded a curt assent. My brain was in a whirl. What was I to believe? This beautiful, queenlike creature seemed incapable of deceit, and yet--who were the two people I had so lately seen in her apartment? Why had no mention been made of them? No matter; I felt my belief in the young girl's innocence and goodness rise superior to mere facts, and then and there vowed to become her champion should she ever need one, which I very much feared she might. I was vaguely annoyed that the detective should have insisted on escorting her. Had he a motive for this, I wondered, or had he simply succumbed to her fascination, like the rest of us? At any rate, I didn't like it, and I rang Mrs. Atkins's bell in considerable ill humour. CHAPTER V MRS. ATKINS HOLDS SOMETHING BACK