“That she did not,” asserted the nurse. She was flattered at Zizi’s attitude and would have told her anything she asked. “How do you know?” “I can’t go to sleep myself, you see, till Mrs Varian is asleep. So I always wait until I hear her steady breathing before I let myself drop off.” The statement was too surely true to be disbelieved and Zizi went on. “Then who was it that Martha heard downstairs, that she went down a second time?” “Maybe she didn’t hear anybody. Maybe she went down to see what she could pick up herself——” “Steal, do you mean? Oh, for shame! To accuse a poor, dead girl!” Mrs Fletcher looked ashamed. “I oughtn’t to,—I s’pose. But, Miss, what else is there to think? I well know how this house is locked up of nights; nobody from outside could get in. The other servants are as honest as the day, and though I’ve no real reason to suspect Martha, yet there doesn’t seem to be any other way to look,—does there, now?” “Some way may turn up,” said Zizi. “Tell me more about Betty,—Miss Varian.” “I can’t tell you from having known her, for I never saw the girl, but since I’ve been taking care of Mrs Varian there’s little I don’t know about the whole family. She’s nervous, you know, and so she talks incessantly, when we’re alone.” “Nothing, though, to cast any light on Miss Varian’s disappearance?” “Oh, no; nothing but sort of reminiscences about her husband and how good he was to her, and how she grieves for him,—and for her child. Poor woman,—it’s fearful to hear her.” “It must be,” said Zizi, sympathetically; “my heart bleeds for that poor tortured soul.” CHAPTER XI Clues It was after luncheon, in the library, that Pennington Wise began his real business of the investigation of the Varian mysteries. First of all, he desired to look over the papers in Mr Varian’s desk, and with the assistance of Granniss, he was soon in possession of the principal facts to be learned that way. Moreover, he discovered some things not yet taken into consideration by the local detectives, and he read with interest a number of letters that were carefully filed, apparently for preservation. Rapidly he scanned them and tossed them aside, retaining a few for further consideration. “I think, Mrs Varian,” he said, at last, “that a most important fact in the case is the strange bequest of the Varian pearls to your husband’s niece instead of to his daughter. Can you explain this?”