“The fact that Miss Temple Barholm has not allowed herself to be prejudiced by village gossip, which is invariably largely unreliable, will make her an excellent witness,” Mr. Palford said to his partner, with a deliberation which held suggestive significance. Each man, in fact, had suddenly realized that her ignorance would leave her absolutely unbiased in her answers to any questions they might put, and that it was much better in cross-examining an emotional elderly lady that such should be the case.
“Witness!” Miss Alicia found the word alarming. Mr. Palford's bow was apologetically palliative.
“A mere figure of speech, madam,” he said.
“I really know so little every one else doesn't know.” Miss Alicia's protest had a touch of bewilderment in it. What could they wish to ask her?
“But, as we understand it, your relations with Mr. Temple Barholm were most affectionate and confidential.”
“We were very fond of each other,” she answered.
“For that reason he no doubt talked to you more freely than to other people,” Mr. Grimby put it. “Perhaps, Palford, it would be as well to explain to Miss Temple Barholm that a curious feature of this matter is that it—in a way—involves certain points concerning the late Mr. Temple Barholm.”
Miss Alicia uttered a pathetic exclamation.
“Poor Jem—who died so cruelly!”
Mr. Palford bent his head in acquiescence.