“Frankly, I do not see how there could have been an intruder, unless dressed as a gentleman. No other could have gained access to the house.”
“The servants saw no stranger, in any sort of garb?”
“They say so,” returned Beatrice, thoughtfully. “Don’t overlook the possibility of an accomplice among the servants. I’ve no reason to think this, but such things have happened.”
“They have indeed, and I assure you we have not overlooked the chance of it.”
VII
Natalie, Not Joyce
But the desired interview with Natalie was not achieved before the funeral of Eric Stannard. It was two days after before the girl would consent to see Roberts, and then, under protest.
“I’ve nothing to say,” she declared, as she came unwillingly into the Reception Room to meet him. “I’m not under arrest, and there’s no law that can make me talk if I don’t want to.”
The lovely face was troubled and the scarlet lips were pouting as Miss Vernon flounced herself into a chair, one foot tucked under her, and one little slipper tapping the carpet. She looked so like a petulant school-girl, it was well nigh impossible to connect her with a thought of anything really wrong. But Robert Roberts was experienced in guile and was by no means ready to accept her innocence at its face value.
“No law ought to make you do anything you don’t want to,” he said smiling; “but suppose it’s to your own advantage to talk?”
The sympathetic, good-natured face of Bobsy Roberts had a pleasant effect, for Natalie’s pout disappeared and a look of confidence came into her blue eyes.