For several days thereafter no untoward incident disturbed the surface monotony of the household routine, and only the unobtrusive but persistent surveillance to which she was subjected remained to keep the tragic mystery uppermost in Betty's thoughts.
Of her knowledge of the espionage she gave no sign, but went about her daily tasks with winning docility and an outward serenity of bearing which brought the hoped-for reward. After the third night, Caroline was no longer installed on guard outside her door, and before the week was out the girl felt that she had at last lulled all suspicion. Mrs. Atterbury had not suggested that she walk again in the grounds of the estate, however, and although the confinement was telling upon her, Betty feared to risk a direct refusal by seeking permission.
However, from the hour that Caroline's vigil ceased, Betty had pursued her secret exploration of the home. As on the first night after her arrival, and the second, when she made her gruesome discovery, she had continued her mysterious quest throughout the sleeping house and every spare moment during the day, when she could escape detection, found her delving in odd nooks and corners. She managed in time to visit each of the sleeping apartments and even penetrated to the attic, but her efforts continued to be fruitless. The object of her clandestine activities seemed still to elude her.
She attended to the correspondence each morning and completed the rearrangement of the books in the library. Miss Pope appeared on two subsequent occasions, but made no further effort to communicate by stealth with the girl even upon the day she delivered the finished gowns. Whatever her motive had been, her courage was not equal to a second attempt.
The Danas made no reappearance, nor did the pale, foppish youth, Jordan Ide, but Mme. Cimmino and the ubiquitous Wolvert were constant visitors and on more than one occasion Betty heard Dr. Bayard's measured tones issuing from the drawing-room. By tacit arrangement, she now retired to her own room immediately after dinner on such evenings as there were guests present and the silent hours of readjustment and utter mental relaxation gave her renewed strength to play her daily part.
By the end of the week a thaw set in which swept the cedars bare of frost and turned the unbroken expanse of white into a veritable sea of mud. Mrs. Atterbury herself had not left the house since she acquired her new companion, but early one morning she entered the library where Betty sat wearily anticipating her secretarial duties, with a proposal which made the girl's eyes dance.
"My dear, I wonder if you will undertake an errand for me? The walking is atrocious, I know, but you have been cooped up indoors quite long enough and the fresh air will do you good."
"Oh, I shall be glad to go!" Betty cried warmly, adding in haste, "Of course, I don't know my way about, but if you will direct me I am sure I shall not make any mistake."
"I don't think there is a likelihood of your getting lost," Mrs. Atterbury smiled. "But if you do, you can always reach a telephone, you know, and I will send the car to conduct you home. I want you to go to Madame Cimmino's and bring back a package which she will give you for me. She lives in the Lorilton Apartments on Falmouth Avenue; walk three blocks across town from the corner here, and take a southbound red 'bus. Tell the conductor your destination and he will see that you reach it safely."
"That seems quite clear, Mrs. Atterbury." Betty rose with alacrity. "Do you wish me to go at once?"