"I understand." She turned away with a quick, nervous movement, but he stopped her.
"One moment. Your name, please? Your evidence may be wanted."
"By whom?"
"By the coroner; to corroborate our story."
"I see. I am Mrs. Jamieson; at the Glenville House."
She turned from him with the last word, and walked swiftly back toward the school-house.
Hilda Grant was still at the window. She had made no attempt to listen to recitations, or even to call the roll; and she hastened out, at sight of the slight black robed figure entering the school yard, her big grey eyes full of the question her lips refused to frame.
They met at the foot of the steps, and Mrs. Jamieson spoke at once, as if in reply, to the wordless inquiry in the other's face.
"I am Mrs. Jamieson," she said, speaking low, mindful of the curious faces peering out from two windows, on either side of the open door. "I was stopped by Mr.—"