"She is not a lady," said Mrs. Hill, pursing up her lips.
"Nevertheless she has a kind heart, and will make Eva very happy. I think, mother, it is the best that can be done. Eva doesn't want to come here, and she will not marry me until the murderer of her father is discovered."
"Why won't she come to me?" asked Mrs. Hill sharply.
Allen looked down. "She doesn't like my father," he said.
"Very rude of her to tell you that. But I know my poor Harold is not popular."
"He is whimsical," said Allen, "and, somehow, Eva can't get on with him. She was not rude, mother, but simply stated a fact. She likes my father well enough to meet him occasionally, but she would not care to live with him. And if it comes to that," added Allen frowning, "no more should I. He is too eccentric for me, mother, and I should think for you, mother."
"I am fond of your father in my own way," said Mrs. Hill, looking down and speaking in a low voice, as though she made an effort to confess as much. "But does Eva expect to find out who murdered Mr. Strode?"
"Yes. She refuses to marry me until the assassin is found and punished. As she was bent on searching for the man herself, I offered to search for her."
Mrs. Hill frowned. "Why did you do that?" she asked sharply; "Strode is nothing to you, and you have to return to America. Far better find that capitalist you want, than waste your time in avenging the death of that man."
"You don't seem to like Mr. Strode, mother."