"But Carmela's love for him was only a girlish fancy, as she says herself in Mrs. Dexter's diary."
"In short," said Foster, replacing the letter on the table; "you are so much in love with her that you cannot see her imperfections?"
"I am not blind to them, if that's what you mean," retorted Ronald, doggedly; "but all I know is, I love her, and intend to ask her to be my wife."
"Ah! well, as soon as this mystery is cleared up."
"I understand," said Foster, rising from his chair, and walking to and fro; "but, judging from this letter of Roper's, the elucidation seems as far off as ever."
"I don't see that--for, taking all things into consideration, I am inclined to think Mrs. Verschoyle is telling a lie."
"Oh! so you believe she was on board the 'Neptune' that night?"
Ronald nodded.
"There's no proof."
"Certainly, not any actual proof," said Ronald, quietly; "but I think it is very probable that Roper's theory is correct, and she did leave her bedroom, lock the door, and then return without anyone seeing her."