We arrived at the corner above the Dodge house just in time to see another visitor—Bennett—enter. Craig quickened his pace. Jennings had by this time become quite reconciled to our presence and a moment later we were entering the drawing room, too.
Elaine was there, looking lovelier than ever in the plain black dress, which set off the rosy freshness of her face.
"And, Perry," we heard her say, as we were ushered in, "someone has even forged my name—the handwriting and everything—telling Mr. Kennedy to drop the case—and I never knew."
She stopped as we entered. We bowed and shook hands with Bennett.
Elaine's Aunt Josephine was in the room, a perfect duenna.
"That's the limit!" exclaimed Bennett. "Miss Dodge has just been telling me,—"
"Yes," interrupted Craig. "Look, Miss Dodge, this is it."
He handed her the letter. She almost seized it, examining it carefully, her large eyes opening wider in wonder.
"This is certainly my writing and my notepaper," she murmured, "but I never wrote the letter!"
Craig looked from the letter to her keenly. No one said a word. For a moment Kennedy hesitated, thinking.
"Might I—er—see your room, Miss Dodge?" he asked at length.