XLIII.
MRS. FIRMAN.
Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her....
Heaven knows what she has known.—Macbeth.
"MISS FIRMAN, I believe?" The staid, pleasant-faced lady whom we know, but who is looking older and considerably more careworn than when we saw her at the coroner's inquest, rose from her chair in her own cozy sitting-room, and surveyed her visitor curiously. "I am Mr. Gryce," the genial voice went on. "Perhaps the name is not familiar?"
"I never heard it before," was the short but not ungracious reply.
"Well, then, let me explain," said he. "You are a relative of the Mrs. Clemmens who was so foully murdered in Sibley, are you not? Pardon me, but I see you are; your expression speaks for itself." How he could have seen her expression was a mystery to Miss Firman, for his eyes, if not attention, were seemingly fixed upon some object in quite a different portion of the room. "You must, therefore," he pursued, "be in a state of great anxiety to know who her murderer was. Now, I am in that same state, madam; we are, therefore, in sympathy, you see."
The respectful smile and peculiar intonation with which these last words were uttered, robbed them of their familiarity and allowed Miss Firman to perceive his true character.
"You are a detective," said she, and as he did not deny it, she went on: "You say I must be anxious to know who my cousin's murderer was. Has Craik Mansell, then, been acquitted?"
"A verdict has not been given," said the other. "His trial has been adjourned in order to give him an opportunity to choose a new counsel."
Miss Firman motioned her visitor to be seated, and at once took a chair herself.