"Come in, Mrs. Eversley," cried Cyril. "I'm glad to see you again. I've never forgotten you or your doughnuts."
The troubled face broke into a pleased smile as the woman dropped a courtesy.
"It's very kind of you to remember them, my lord, very kind indeed, and glad I am to see you again." The smile vanished. "This is a terrible business, my lord."
"Terrible," assented Cyril.
"His poor lordship! Mrs. Valdriguez has said for months and months that something like this was sure to happen some day."
"Do you mean to say that she prophesied that her ladyship would kill his lordship?" exclaimed Cyril.
"Yes, my lord, indeed she did! It made me feel that queer when it really 'appened."
"I should think so. It's most extraordinary."
"But begging your pardon, my lord, there is something special as made me ask to speak to you—something I thought you ought to know immediately."
"What is it?" Cyril had felt that some new trouble was brewing.