“Mrs. Cyril B. Carnthwacke,” he read. He glanced at Mrs. Bechcombe. “What does this mean?”
“That woman—I have always felt certain she was responsible for Luke's death,” Mrs. Bechcombe returned incoherently. “Oh, yes”—as Steadman made a movement of dissent—“if she did not actually kill him herself she took her horrid diamonds to him and let the murderer know and follow her. Oh, yes, I shall always hold her responsible. But to-day you see she—I mean he—the man says their business is important. Perhaps he has found out—something. What am I to do?”
“Why not ask them to come in here?” John Steadman suggested. “We are all members of the family,” glancing round the room.
Mrs. Bechcombe hesitated. Aubrey Todmarsh sprang to his feet.
“I must go, Aunt Madeline. I have to see about bail for Hopkins, and that he is legally represented. And, besides, I don't really feel that I can stand any more to-day.”
His face was working as he spoke, and they all looked at him sympathetically as he hurriedly shook hands with Mrs. Bechcombe. His absorption in Hopkins's backsliding was so evidently of first consideration, rendering him oblivious even of his fiancée. As for the poor little Butterfly, her spirits, which had been gradually rising, seemed to be finally damped by this last contretemps. She raised no objection to her lover's abrupt departure, but sat silent and depressed until the Carnthwackes were ushered into the room.
One glance was enough to show John Steadman that both the American and his wife were looking strangely disturbed. They went straight up to Mrs. Bechcombe.
“I am obliged to you, ma'am, for receiving us,” Carnthwacke began, while his wife laid her hand on Aubrey Todmarsh's vacant chair as though to steady herself.
“You said it was important,” Mrs. Bechcombe's manner was distant. She did not glance at Mrs. Carnthwacke.
“So it is, ma'am, very important!” the American assented. “Sure thing that, else I wouldn't have ventured to butt in this morning. Though if I had gathered your guests were so numerous”—looking round comprehensively and making a slight courteous bow to Steadman and Collyer—“but I don't know. It is best that a thing of this importance should be settled at once.”