The Judge granted her request, and while she hastily read the document, the excited murmur swelled again in spite of the glaring bailiff. In a few minutes she turned to the Judge.
"Your honor," she said, "this is a letter to me written by Mrs. Bell only a few hours before her death; I can easily prove her handwriting, and in any event, it is sworn to before a notary. The matter contained therein will end this trial. That I can use it as part of the res gesta, I have no doubt. I will submit it to the district attorney and ask him to examine it, and then give it to your honor. In the interest of justice and my client I would like to read it to the jury at this time."
She handed the letter to the district attorney, and while he read it she seated herself and conferred with Frank. "Where in the world did you get it?" she asked.
"Carroll and spooks," he began, and then went on more seriously, "but where on earth did you hide yourself? We have been madly tearing around New York, and telephoning all over the adjacent territory in a wild endeavor to find you and get this into your hands. I'm not going to tell you about the letter itself; that's Carroll's story. We've been to the Studios, and everywhere else we thought there was a possibility of finding you, and waited at your office until the last minute in the hope that you'd come there."
"I spent the night at Nutwood, making a last search for the letter," she said. "It was only a chance, but I felt that I couldn't give it up. This morning I motored down, and we had some delay, so that I had to come directly here. But it's all right."
The Judge finished reading the letter, and called Silvia to the bench, where they held a whispered conversation with the district attorney, glancing once or twice toward the little group of witnesses where the large man sat. Then Silvia returned to her seat, and the district attorney gave some hurried directions to a deputy, who immediately left the room, while the Judge gave whispered instructions to a bailiff, who stationed himself at the general entrance.
"You may read the letter, Miss Holland," said the Judge, and the tension in the courtroom grew almost intolerable as she rose, holding the letter in shaking hands, and began reading:
"'New York, August 9.
"'My Dear Miss Holland:
"'The secret I have longed and yet hesitated to tell you must now be disclosed. Of course my trouble has been caused by a man, a man whom I have known a long time and loved too well. He was here day before yesterday and we had a stormy interview—which he says shall be the last. For a long time his manner has been changed toward me, and for the last few months he has neglected me. He didn't seem to like it when I got acquainted with you, or when you paid so much attention to Allie; he said he didn't see what you wanted of her, and asked me how you came to take her to the country and when she would be back, and wanted to know if I had told you or Dr. Earl of my relations with him. I said certainly not, and when I reproached him for not coming to see me he said he couldn't come here. Since Allie was hurt, I have only met him a few times. Sometimes I have been happy when I was with him, for I loved, and I love him, better than my life, but I have not wanted to deceive you, and every day the old life has grown harder to bear. I think I have always believed that he would marry me, as he promised in the beginning, until this summer. Now I see that, more than he has deceived me, I have deceived myself, as every woman deceives herself when she forgets the honor of the present for promises that are to be redeemed in the future.