"I got your telepathy, Silvia, dear," she answered, with a squeeze of the hand, "when on mischief bent about three blocks from here, and decided to come by this cheerful edifice on the chance that you might be here. I saw the car, introduced myself to your chauffeur and climbed in. I must say," she added, "that you were an unconscionable time. Now, what can I do for you?"
"Let's go and have luncheon somewhere," answered Silvia, "and I'll tell you all about it."
"No," said the newspaper woman, "I have to interview a Mrs. Somebody or other who has just come to town to teach us how to connect our trolleys with psychic wires, or our subliminal minds with ethereal vibrations. She's stopping at the Buckingham, and if you want to take me out there I'll be glad of the lift, for I'm short on time, and we can talk on the way."
"Surely, I'll take you gladly," Silvia answered, giving the directions to the chauffeur, "and since I've wasted so much of your afternoon, I'll send back for you, and have you taken to the office if you're going there, or to your own hotel, unless you'll come and dine with me; I'm alone to-night."
"Thank you," Miss Renner answered; "I would be glad to get back home, for I've a wretched headache; not that I'm particularly comfortable there, for it's been abominably warm the last few days."
Silvia gave a sigh of relief. "Has it? Well, that makes it easier for me to ask a favor of you. But first tell me, Carroll, are you timid—nervous?"
"Do you mean am I given to 'seein' things at night'?" Carroll asked. "I don't know how it will be after I have my seance with Mrs. Whoever-it-is I'm going to see, but when I'm reasonably abstemious I'm not given to ingrowing nerves. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to go and live in what was Mrs. Bell's home. I had paid the rent for her up to the end of October, and after her death I took charge of the place. Of course, I couldn't send Alice back there, but I went and got her clothes and toys and I've been there a number of times. I had a new lock put on, and have taken a maid there and kept it in order, so all you'll have to do will be to send up your trunk."
"Certainly I'll go," Carroll answered soberly, "but what do you expect to gain by it? Of course you have a motive."
"Yes," answered the other woman, "I have, but it isn't the sort of thing one can speak of, except in the closest confidence. I haven't mentioned it even to Frank Earl, whose interest in this case is at least as great as mine, and you mustn't. I haven't been practicing law so very long, but I've heard that all lawyers, who are really worth while, are superstitious about talking over a case before it goes to trial. They don't tell their clients more than a bare outline, and I believe it is true, for surely I've found myself more fanciful than I ever was before. The day before Mrs. Bell was found dead in her room she wrote to Alice; it was a very short letter, and she excused herself by saying that she was very tired, having written me a long letter. Naturally, Alice showed me the letter, and I remarked at the time that it was strange mine hadn't come by the same mail. Then after the tragedy it slipped my mind for a day or so, and when I made inquiries it had not been received, or if it had, the servants said it was forwarded to me here. I made more inquiries, but nothing could be found in my office, though there was a bunch of mail from Nutwood. The longer I thought of it the more anxious I became to find that letter, and when I was employed in this case it seemed to me absolutely imperative that I should do so. I have seen all the postal authorities here who could have any knowledge of the letter, or its possible disposition, and have written to Washington, but all in vain. I am sure it would clear up several matters that are troubling me greatly."