“What does he mean by that?” asked Mrs Herbert of Mrs Frederick, as she repeated the message.
“Oh, nothing,” and Mrs Frederick clasped her hands resignedly. “Only you know how Betty and her father are always more or less at odds. I don’t know why it is,—they’re devoted to each other, yet they’re always quarreling.”
“They don’t mean anything,” and her sister-in-law smiled. “I know them both, and they’re an ideal father and daughter.”
CHAPTER III
The Tragedy
Doctor Herbert Varian stood slightly apart from the rest of the group, his observant eyes taking in all the details of the peculiar situation of his brother’s house. His eye traversed back over the short distance they had already come, and he saw a narrow, winding and exceedingly steep path. At intervals it was a succession of broken, irregular steps, rocky and sharp-edged. Again, it would be a fairly easy, though stony footway. But it led to the house, and had no branch or side track in any direction.
“Everything and everybody that comes to this house has to come by this path?” he demanded.
“Yes,” said Minna Varian, and added, complainingly, “a most disagreeable arrangement. All the servants and tradespeople have to use it as well as ourselves and our guests.”
“That could be remedied,” suggested Varian, “a branch, say——”
“We’ll never do it,” said Minna, sharply. “I don’t like the place well enough to buy it, though that is what Fred has in mind——”
“No, don’t buy it,” advised her brother-in-law. “I see nothing in its favor except its wonderful beauty and strange, weird charm. That’s a good deal, I admit, but not enough for a comfortable summer home.”