"I must see you," he had written, "regarding Miss Agnes Scripps."
Had it not been for the puzzle of that addressed envelope so strangely discovered at so tragic a moment, yet forgotten in the stress of following events, it is a question whether even the scribbled line would have served its purpose.
As it was, however, Mrs. Darling reversed her decision at once, and the solicitor of the parchment cheeks was promptly admitted.
He found her a funereal-appearing young woman in deepest mourning, guarded by an equally funereal-appearing staghound, which lay between her feet and the fender.
"I trust you will pardon my persistency, Mrs. Darling," he began; "but the truth is that Lord Kneedrock's sudden death, coupled with another event, equally unexpected and unprovided for, has left me in a somewhat serious predicament."
"Another event?" questioned Nina coolly.
"Another death."
"Whose?" she asked bluntly.
"Old David Phipps died yesterday, in Dundee."
"I never heard of him. Who is he?"