The widow gasped with delight. That Sir Joseph should select her from amongst all his friends to stay at Camden Hill as a temporary companion to his only daughter surely showed that he took a deep interest in her; and such interest could only mean that marriage-- "Oh," cried Mrs. Mellop, shutting her eyes to conjure up more clearly the golden vision, "how sweet of you! I like a quiet time, as my poor husband did not leave me very well off, and it is so expensive to go about in London; besides, your darling mother was a good friend to me, and my heart is wrung."
Audrey knew perfectly well that Lady Branwin had been a very good friend indeed to Mrs. Mellop, who was something of a parasite, and knew also that the lady's heart was not wrung in the least. She had used the phrase because it sounded well, and because she wished to ingratiate herself with the heiress. Not that Mrs. Mellop was a bad-hearted woman. She was simply frivolous and incapable of feeling any deep emotion. In her own silly way she had been attached to the late Lady Branwin, because she had found her a useful friend. In the same way she was prepared to lavish her shallow affections on Audrey.
Mrs. Mellop duly arrived with many boxes, and was given a charming suite of apartments, luxuriously furnished with all that civilisation could provide in the way of comfort. Certainly the life was somewhat quiet, as Audrey rarely left the grounds, and even when in the house preferred to be alone with her books and music. But the surroundings were costly, the food was excellent, and there were innumerable servants ready to obey the widow's beck and call. Mrs. Mellop, during her three weeks' stay, felt that she was already the wife of the millionaire, and took advantage of the opportunity to go out daily in one of the luxurious motor-cars to shop extensively and run up many bills, on the assumption that Sir Joseph would certainly pay them when he proposed. And the shopkeepers, who hitherto had been rather shy of the pretty little widow, trusted her readily when they knew that she was chaperoning Miss Branwin, and saw that she used Sir Joseph's up-to-date vehicles. Also, she might have dropped a hint or two that she had come to stay at the Camden Hill house. But, at all events, during that halcyon time Mrs. Mellop assuredly gathered together a wardrobe and a quantity of jewellery which stood her in good service afterwards when the gates of this millionaire Eden closed behind her. But as yet she never believed that they would close; or, if they did, that she would be within as the second Lady Branwin.
Meanwhile, since the chaperon was discreet, and Sir Joseph was at the seaside, Audrey saw a great deal of Ralph. Because of her mourning for her mother she could not meet him as usual in Kensington Gardens; but he came to afternoon tea, and sometimes to dinner. Mrs. Mellop, only too anxious to get Audrey married, so that she could prosecute her matrimonial plans when the millionaire returned, was rarely present at these meetings, or if she was speedily got out of the way on the plea of fatigue, or that she had to write letters. Audrey might have had no chaperon, so far as Mrs. Mellop was concerned, and it was evident that the little widow had taken the hint given by the girl at that first candid interview. But Mrs. Mellop wrote Sir Joseph gushing letters about his sweet child, without mentioning the almost constant presence of the young barrister.
Audrey and Ralph did not talk like lovers now. The girl was consumed by a fierce desire to hunt down the assassin of her mother, and talked of little else but the chance of tracing the murderer. Ralph assured her that he had kept in touch with Inspector Lanton and with the police generally, to say nothing of his frequent visits to the detectives at Scotland Yard. "But nothing can be found out," said the barrister, sadly.
"Something must be found out," cried Audrey at the last of these interviews; "and if the police fail we must succeed."
"But your father--"
Audrey made a gesture of contempt. "My father thinks that he has done his duty by offering this thousand pounds' reward. He will not lift a finger to find the assassin of my poor mother. He is glad she is dead."
"Oh! surely not," remarked Ralph, rather shocked by this blunt speech.
"Surely yes," said the girl, bitterly. "I did not tell you before, Ralph, because I was ashamed to tell you, but my father is going to marry again."