"Who are you, Miss Lord?" she inquired.
"Your neighbor."
"Why are you our neighbor?"
"I am glad to be able to explain that—to you, in confidence. I am trying to clear the name of Colonel Weatherby from a grave charge—the charge of high treason."
"In other words, you are trying to discover where he is," retorted
Irene impatiently.
"No, my dear; you mistake me. It is not important to my mission, at present, to know where Colonel Weatherby is staying. I am merely seeking relevant information, such information as you are in a position to give me."
"I, Miss Lord?"
"Yes. To be perfectly frank, I want to see the letter which you found in that book."
"Why should you attach any importance to that?"
"I was present, you will remember, when you discovered it. I marked your surprise and perplexity—your fear and uncertainty—as you glanced first at the writing and then at Mary Louise. You determined not to show your friend that letter because it would disturb her, yet you inadvertently admitted, in my hearing, that it referred to the girl's mother and—which is vastly more important—to her grandfather."