“She can’t without your knowledge, I admit. But, she can without your consent. Her money is her own and you’ve no real authority that will let you dictate to her how to use it.” “True, oh, Queen!” “Oh, Penny, when you smile like that, I know something’s up! What is it?” “My luck, I hope. Ziz, do you remember you said you had a green smear on your frock like the one on Martha’s hand?” “Yes; why?” “Is it there yet, or did you clean it off?” “It’s there yet, I haven’t worn the dress since.” “Get it, will you?” Zizi went, and returned with the little frock, a mere wisp of light, thin material, and handed it to Pennington Wise. He inspected the green streak, which was visible though not conspicuous, and then he sniffed at it with such absorption that Zizi laughed outright. “Pen,” she said, “in detective stories they always represent the great detective as sniffing like a hound on a scent. You’re literally doing it.” “Not astonishing that I should, little one, when you realize that this green smear is a beacon to light our way.” “What is it?” Zizi’s big Hack eyes grew serious at Wise’s tone. “The way out; the exit; the solution of the mystery of the secret passage.” “Oh, Penny, tell me! You’ll be the death of me if you keep the truth from me! I’m crazy with suspense!” But Zizi’s curiosity could not be gratified just then, for Fletcher came to say that Minna desired the girl’s company. Minna Varian had come to depend much on Zizi’s charm and entertainment, and often sent for her when feeling especially blue or nervous. Zizi had been waiting for an opportunity, and now as the nurse left her alone with Mrs Varian, she gradually and deftly led the talk around to Betty as a baby. “Tell me what you thought when you first saw your little daughter,” Zizi said, in her pretty, coaxing way. “How old was she?” “About an hour or so, I think,” Minna said, reminiscently. “And my first thought was, ‘Oh, thank God for a healthy, beautiful baby!’ She was so lovely,—and so strong and perfect! I had hoped she would be all right, but I never looked for such a marvel as came to me!” “And Mr Varian was as pleased as you were!” Zizi said, gently. “Oh, yes,—but,” Minna’s face clouded a little, “I don’t know how to express it,—but he never seemed to love Betty as he did our first children. He admired her,—nobody could help it,—but he had a queer little air of restraint about her. It lasted all through life. I can’t understand it,—unless he was jealous——” “Jealous?” “Yes, of my love and adoration of the child. Silly idea, I know, but I’ve racked my brain and I can’t think of any other explanation.” “That doesn’t explain the Varian pearls——”