“And now,” Bill Dunn put in, “you’d better fix up a meal for those who want it. They had no picnic supper, you see, and there are the guests to be considered as well as your Mrs Varian.” “Speakin’ one word for them and two for yourself, I’m thinkin’,” Hannah sniffed, as she began to tie on her apron. “Well, Mr Potter, you’ll be welcome to a good meal, I’m sure.” “One moment, Hannah,” said Bill, “when you left here today, was there a sofa pillow out here in the kitchen?” “A sofy pillow? There was not. Why should such a thing be?” “A yellow satin one,—embroidered.” “Off the hall sofy? No, sir, it never was in my kitchen at all.” “What do you know about it?” Dunn turned to the butler. “When did you last see the sofa pillows on the hall sofa?” Kelly stared. “I saw them this morning, sir,—yes, and I saw them this afternoon,—when I set the picnic baskets out. I didn’t——” “How did you happen to notice the pillows, Kelly?” Bill watched him closely. “Why, I didn’t exactly notice them,—but,—well, if they hadn’t been in place I should have noticed it.” “That’s right,” Dunn gave a satisfied nod. The pillow episode seemed important to him, though he could get no meaning to it as yet. “Now Kelly, tell me the truth. When you’ve been around, in the dining room, or the living rooms, haven’t you heard conversations between Miss Varian and her father that showed some friction between the two?” “Oh, now, sir, Miss Betty’s a saucy piece——” “I don’t mean gay chaff,—I mean real, downright quarreling. Did you ever hear any of that? Tell me the truth, Kelly, you’ll serve no good purpose by trying to shield either of them.” “Well, then, yes, sir, I did,—and often. But not to say exactly quarreling,—more like argufying——” “Why do you say that, Kelly? They do quarrel,—all the time they quarrel,—and you know it.” This astonishing speech was from the lips of Minna Varian, who suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was smiling a little, she looked tired and wan, but she was in no way excited or hysterical. She wore a trailing blue wrapper, and her hair was falling from its combs and hairpins. “Mrs Varian!” exclaimed Potter, springing to her side. “Why are you here?” “I heard voices and I wondered who was down here. Where are my people? Who are you two strange men?” “There, there,” said Hannah, advancing and putting an arm round her mistress, “let me take you back to your room. Come now.” “Just a minute,” and Potter looked keenly at the lady. “Say that again, Mrs Varian. Your daughter quarrels with her father often?” “All the time,” Minna Varian laughed. “I have to make peace between them morning, noon and night. Oh, why do they do it? Fred is so dear and sweet to me,—then he will scold Betty for the least trifle! And Betty never differs from me in her opinions, but she is antagonistic to her father, always. Can you explain it?”