Things were in this position when the murder of Mrs. Jersey took place. Dorothy read about it in the papers, and knowing that George had gone to stop in the house with Train, was extremely anxious to hear particulars. She wrote to his Kensington address asking him to call, but received no reply. Then she saw that he gave evidence at the inquest, and two days later George made his appearance at the Curzon Street house. Mrs. Ward, who had been voluble in her expressions regarding Brendon's "love for low company," so she put it, sailed toward him with open hands. She always welcomed Brendon in this bright, girlish, kittenish way, as it was part of her scheme. She thought so serious a man would never relish a frivolous mother-in-law, and hoped to get rid of him in this way. But Brendon was too much in love with Dorothy to mind the vagaries of her fashionable parent. "My dear Mr. Brendon," cried Mrs. Ward in her usual gushing manner, "I am so glad to see you. The murder, you know. I saw your name in the papers. How exciting! how romantic! Tell us all about it." "There is nothing to tell, Mrs. Ward," said George, glancing round the room and seeing that Dorothy was absent. "All I know is set forth in the papers." Mrs. Ward arranged herself on the sofa and laughed joyously. "Quite exciting it is," she said. "I wonder who killed the poor woman, and how did you come to be there on the very night she died?" This last question was asked sharply, and with a keen glance. George was rather taken aback, but not thinking she had any intention in what she said, answered, soberly enough: "I went to see a friend, Mrs. Ward. It was unfortunate that I chose that night." "Well, of course you didn't know," said Mrs. Ward, artlessly. "But fancy knowing any one living in an out-of-the-way place like that. But you do know such queer people." George thought he knew none queerer than Mrs. Ward herself, but he suppressed this speech as impolite. "My friend is Mr. Leonard Train." "Really! I think I have met him. His father made a fortune out of mustard, or coke, or something horrid. What was he doing there?" "Looking for characters for a book." "Oh!" Mrs. Ward opened her eyes. "Did he find any?" "I believe so. But he has left the house now." "I should think every one would leave it after the murder," said Mrs. Ward. "Dorothy will be down soon, but meantime tell me the whole thing from your own clever point of view." She was so pertinacious that Brendon had reluctantly to yield. He detailed events as they had been reported by the press, but concerning the confidence of Leonard he kept silent. Mrs. Ward expressed her disappointment when he finished. "You tell me nothing new." "I warned you that I would not," replied Brendon, wondering at her petulant speech. "But surely you can throw some light on the matter?" said Mrs. Ward. Brendon shook his head. "I fear not. I went to bed at eleven and slept soundly until I was awakened by the clamor."