"What was it?" and the coroner listened to an account of the date with ink in it. The story was told by Mrs. Bowen, as Iris refused to talk at all.
"A pretty mean trick," was the coroner's opinion. "Didn't you resent it, Miss Clyde?"
"She did not," spoke up the rector, in a decided way. "Miss Clyde is a young woman of too much sense and also of too much affection for her dear aunt, to resent a good-humored jest——"
"Good-humored jest!" exclaimed Hughes. "Going some! a jest like that—spoilin' a young girl's pretty Sunday frock——"
"Never mind, Hughes," reproved Timken, "we're not judging Mrs. Pell's conduct now. This is an investigation, a preliminary inquiry, rather, but not a judgment seat. Miss Clyde, I must ask that you answer me a few questions. You left your aunt's presence directly after your guests had departed?"
"Within a few moments of their leaving."
"She was then in her usual health and good spirits?"
"So far as I know."
"Any conversation passed between you?'
"Only a little."