Aldyth bent to examine the fragment of linen. It was of the finest lawn, apparently torn from a frill, such as her mother had been wont to wear in the sleeves of her crape gown. Aldyth's colour rose with the thought. Various possibilities suggested themselves to her mind. She could not have told why it was, but from that moment, the idea that her mother was concealing some knowledge of the later will took possession of Aldyth's mind, and refused to be dislodged. She turned to Mr. Greenwood, speaking rather tremulously—
"Mrs. Rogers had nothing to do with this, I feel certain; but I will make inquiries, I will try to ascertain if any one has been to the bureau."
"It will be well, to do so," he replied.
"Will you search further to-night?" she asked.
"No, not now. I must be getting home," he said.
"You will have some dinner before you start?"
"No, thank you, I must not stay. Mrs. Greenwood will be expecting me. I shall be out again in a day or two. Mrs. Stanton will be better then, I trust."
"I hope so," Aldyth said. "But I feel uneasy, her pulse is so high."
It was indeed many days ere Mrs. Stanton could be pronounced on the way to recovery. She developed a kind of low fever, and though her life was never in actual danger, her condition was such that Aldyth suffered much anxiety.
Part of the time she was delirious, and the words she uttered in her delirium seemed to confirm the painful impression Aldyth had received. Something evidently weighed on the mind of the patient, something she was anxious to conceal.