“I have been her nurse ever since she was born. I am now her housekeeper and I take all care of her.”
There was something fine about Mrs. Merivale. She gave an impression of one who was tolerating the inquiries of a lot of zanies who must be humoured because they represented the law.
“You live in an island home?”
“Yes.” Alma took up the answering again, seeing no reason why Mrs. Merivale should be her spokesman save by way of corroboration.
Then Hart asked the same questions he had asked her before, as to her relations with her uncle, her expectations at his death, and to all the girl replied with a gentle, demure manner that won the admiration and respect of all present.
At last Hart said, plainly:
“I regret the necessity of this, Miss Remsen, but it must be said. You are the one to benefit by the decease of your uncle.”
“Yes,” she looked at him steadily, with no sign of fear, but again I detected that slight quiver of her eyelid, and wondered what it portended.
“You would have opportunity to reach his room.”
“Opportunity?” she looked a little bewildered, and I noticed the lines around the firm set lips of Mrs. Merivale grow even tenser.