"I don't know. Nothing particular, I guess. Oh, yes, I learned her name was Ellison before she was married, but the sisters don't consult her about family matters at all. They do about clothes, though. And she knows a lot. Why, Chess, she's having the loveliest things made, if they _are_ mourning, and the sisters, they ask her about everything they order--to wear, I mean. And, just think! Mrs. Schuyler never wears any jewels but pearls! It's a whim, you know, or it was her husband's whim, or something, but anyway, she has oceans of pearls, and no other gems at all." "Did she tell you so?" "Yes; but it came in the conversation, you know. She is no boaster. No sir-ee! She's the modestest, gentlest, sweetest little lady I ever saw. I just love her! Well, I answered a lot of letters for her, and she liked the way I did it, and she liked me, I guess, for she said she only hoped Miss Crowell would suit her as well." "She knows you're my sister?" "Of course. But that isn't why she likes me, old bunch of conceit! Though, I must admit, she likes you, Chet. She said you were not only kind, but you have a fair amount of intelligence--no, she didn't use those words, exactly, but I gathered that was what she meant. The funeral is to be tomorrow evening, you know. I had to write and telephone quite a good deal about that, though the sisters tended to it mostly." "Was there much said about--about the actual case--Winnie?" "You mean about the murder?" Win's clear eyes didn't blink at the word; "no, not much in my hearing. But Mrs. Schuyler wasn't in the room all the time. And I know Mr. Lowney--isn't he the detective?--was there once, and I think, twice." "Did you see anyone else?" "Only some of the servants. Mrs. Schuyler's own maid, her name is Tibbetts, is the sort you read about in English novels. A nice, motherly woman, with gray hair and a black silk apron. I liked her, but the maid who looks after the old sisters, I didn't like so well." "Never mind the maids, tell me more about Mrs. Schuyler. Does she think Vicky Van killed Mr. Schuyler? Since you're in this thing so deep Win, there's no use mincing matters." "I should say not! Yes, of course, she thinks the Vicky person did the killing. How could she think anything else? And the two sisters are madly revengeful. As soon as the funeral is over, they're going to work to find that girl and bring her to justice! They say the inquest will help a lot. When will that be, Chess? Can I go to it?" "No, of course not, Winnie?" This from Aunt Lucy. "It's one thing for you to help Mrs. Schuyler out in an emergency, but you're not to get mixed up in a murder trial!" "An inquest isn't a trial, Auntie," and Win looked like a wise owl, as she aired her new and suddenly acquired knowledge. "Can't I go, Chess?" "We'll see, Infant. Perhaps, if Mrs. Schuyler needs your services she may want you there with her."