"About my what?" asked Orchard quietly.
"About your daughter Maud. She came last night to see Mr. Paslow."
"Ah yes," said Orchard, with such composure that Beatrice was certain that he knew nothing about the marriage, or his daughter's life. "Maud and Master Vivian were playmates together. She's a pretty girl."
"She is," assented Beatrice cordially; for no one could deny the beauty of Maud Paslow, marred as it was by artificial aids.
"And a good girl," said the old man, slightly warming. "She ain't ashamed of her old father, although she writes books and lives like a fine lady in London."
"Yes, I hear she is a journalist," said Beatrice, and then abruptly added: "She must make a lot of money to have so fine a diamond necklace as she showed Mr. Paslow and myself."
"Did she show that?" said Orchard, with a slight cloud on his brow. "It was foolish of her. It is a necklace like one that Colonel Hall had years and years ago. Durban said that there was some witchcraft about that necklace, else why should it have been missing for so long, only to turn up here two days ago on the neck of a sheep?"
"What?" asked Beatrice, amazed.
"And now I come to think of it," said Orchard, whose memory was apparently going, "Colonel Hall was murdered by Alpenny for that necklace."
"It is the same?"