"I wonder if she wants me to marry Carmela?" he thought; "of course, if she's in love with Vassalla, she'll be only too anxious to get Carmela disposed of. She did not commit the murder, or she wouldn't be such a fool as to come to England."
When he finished dressing, Mr. Monteith went downstairs into the dining-room, a pleasant apartment that opened, by French windows, on to the quaint old garden with the red-brick walls. He lighted a cigarette and walked slowly up and down waiting for Foster to come to breakfast, and was speedily joined by that gentleman.
"Aren't you hungry, old chap?" asked Gerald, as he came into the garden.
"Rather," retorted Ronald; "I was wondering when you were going to turn up."
"Hungry!" said Foster, raising his eyes, "and he says he's in love--oh, Cupid! what a worshipper you've got!"
Ronald laughed, and put his hand on Foster's shoulder.
"My dear lad," he said, quietly, "love is the least of my troubles. I want to see Carmela free from all this annoyance and then----"
"And then," repeated Foster, as they walked towards the breakfast-room.
"You'll see as true a lover as ever sighed his soul out to a midnight pillow," laughed Ronald; "now come and have some breakfast, I'm starving."
"What time do you think our friend will arrive?" asked Foster, as they sat down to the table.