“Yes, leave it,” said Avice, apathetically; “I am fond of Rosalie and I’d like to look it over.”
Hoyt found the paper where he had left it on the hall table, and gave it to her, and then with a sympathetic, but unobtrusive pressure of her hand, the lawyer went away and the doctor also.
“May I look at that Philadelphia paper a moment?” asked Mrs. Black, “I want to see an advertisement.”
“Certainly, here it is,” and Avice passed it over. “Just think of Rosalie having her coming-out party just now while I’m in such sadness. We were at school together, and though younger than I, she was always one of my favorites.”
“You didn’t care to go to the party?”
“No it was yesterday, and I had that luncheon engagement here, you know. And oh, Eleanor, isn’t it fortunate I am here and not in Philadelphia!”
“Why? You can’t do anything.”
“I know it. But it would have been awful to be away making merry when uncle was—was breathing his last! Who do you suppose did it?”
“Some highway robber, of course. I always told your uncle he ought not to go off, in those lonely woods all by himself. He ran a risk every time. And now the tragedy has occurred.“
“It doesn’t seem like a highway robber to use a dagger. They always have a club or a—what do they call it? a blackjack.”