"You mean," breathed the marble lips of Mrs. De Peyster, "that there's something more?"
"Yes, ma'am. Oh, the papers have been full of it. It's been a tremendous sensation!"
"Oh!" gasped Mrs. De Peyster.
"And Mr. Jack, since you died without a will, is your heir. And, since he is now the head of the De Peyster family, the first thing he did on hearing the news was to arrange by cable to have your body sent here."
Mrs. De Peyster, as though galvanized, half rose from her chair.
"You mean—my body—is coming here?"
"I said I was trying to break it to you gently," moaned Matilda. "It's—it's already here. The ship that brought it is now docking. Your funeral—"
"My funeral!"
"It takes place in the drawing-room, this morning. Oh, isn't it awful! But, perhaps, ma'am, if you could see what beautiful flowers your friends have sent—"