She sat for a moment with compressed lips, steadying herself.
"There's very little to tell," she began. "She was quite her usual self this morning, so far as I could see, and very happy. Two or three of her girl friends came in to see her for a moment, to talk over the final arrangements, and she was giving some directions about the decorations when Mr. Curtiss called. After he had gone, she made a last trip through the house to see that all was right, and then started upstairs to dress. Half an hour later, she came to my room in her wedding-gown to ask how she looked, and I had never seen her looking more beautiful. Only perfect happiness can give such beauty to a woman. I remember thinking what a joy it was to me that she had found a man whom she could love as she loved——"
A half-stifled, choking sob from Curtiss interrupted her. She turned and stretched out her hand to him, with a gesture of infinite affection.
"I finished dressing," she continued, "and then went to Marcia's room, but she wasn't there. Her maid said she'd been called downstairs for a moment. I came down, and found that the decorator had wanted her opinion of the final touches. She had left him, to go upstairs again, as he supposed. It was then nearly half-past eleven, and the bridesmaids began to arrive. I supposed Marcia was in the grounds somewhere, and sent two of the servants to look for her and to tell her it was time to start for the church. They came back saying she was not to be found. Then I began to be alarmed, thinking that she had perhaps been taken suddenly ill, and we searched the house and grounds systematically, but found no trace of her. At last, it seemed just possible that she had gone on to the church, and the bridesmaids hurried into the carriages and drove away—but she wasn't there—only Burr waiting for her——"
She stopped with a sudden tremulousness.
"Thank you," I said. "There's one question I must ask, Mrs. Lawrence, before I can go to work intelligently. You will pardon it. Had your daughter ever had any attachment previous to this one?"
I saw Curtiss glance at her quickly. That solution of the problem had occurred to him, then, too!
"Not the shadow of one," answered Mrs. Lawrence instantly, and perhaps it was only my fancy that the accent of sincerity was a trifle forced. "I have been Marcia's companion and confidante all her life, and I am sure that no man ever distinctly interested her until she met Mr. Curtiss."
"But she no doubt interested many men," I suggested.
"Yes, but never with intention."