"You say this other maid was a stranger?" he asked.
"Yes, sir; she'd never been in the house before, so far as I know. Miss Frances brought her back with her in the carriage."
"And what sort of looking woman is she?"
The girl hesitated.
"She looked like a foreigner, sir," she said at last. "A Frenchwoman, maybe, by the way she rolls her r's."
I pricked up my ears. The same thought occurred at that instant to both Mr. Royce and myself.
"Does she resemble Miss Holladay?" he asked quickly.
"Miss Holladay? Oh, no, sir. She's much older—her hair's quite gray."
Well, certainly, Miss Holladay had the right to choose any maid she pleased, and to discharge any or all of her servants; and yet it seemed strangely unlike her to show such seeming injustice to anyone.
"You say she sent down word that she was ill?" said Mr. Royce, at last. "Was she ill when you dressed her?"