"Ah!" she flashed out, "you have been looking up the case. Why?"
"From what Lord Caranby said—"
"He has no right to say anything," cried Mrs. Herne, rising and speaking vehemently; "he loved my sister, and she lost her life at that dreadful house. I was abroad at the time, and had only just married. My husband was a jeweller. We cut ourselves off from the family when the misfortune came. Only of late years did I recognize Maraquito when she came to me for assistance. Her father died and she had no money. I helped her to pay for her dancing—"
"Oh," said Jennings, recalling the false money, "you paid."
"Have you anything to say on that point?" she asked haughtily.
"No! No! I merely congratulate you on your generosity."
"I could not allow my own niece to starve. I helped her, and then she met with the accident. After that—"
"You assisted her to start this gambling-house."
"By no means. Mr. Hale found the money for that. He is in love with Maraquito. But you can understand why I do not proclaim my relationship with her. The past of our family is too painful. I became acquainted with Miss Loach through Mrs. Octagon—she was then the wife of Mr. Saxon—when I went to inquire into my sister's death. I liked Miss Loach and frequently went to see her. Now that she is dead I shall leave England. I have arranged to do so next week, and you will not see me here again. That is why I gave you this chance of making inquiries."
"I am much obliged," said Jennings quite believing her story, since she told it so earnestly: "but does Maraquito love Hale?"