“Something terrible has happened!” Cristina muttered. “I fear I cannot ask the gentlemen to come in. We are in trouble here.”
“I’m glad they know. That will save you a disagreeable moment,” whispered M. Popeau, as he pressed Lily’s hand.
Cristina cut short Lily’s farewells, and shut the door almost rudely in the Frenchman’s face.
“I’m sorry you have come back,” she said to Lily, in a very low tone. “I wish you had stayed away till dinner-time! A fearful thing has happened!”
“I know,” said Lily soothingly. “You mean about Mr. Ponting.”
“You know?” echoed Cristina amazed, and she turned a startled look on the girl’s face.
“It was I who found the body and told the police,” the girl answered quietly. “But there is nothing to be frightened about, Cristina, though, of course, it is very, very sad.”
She was speaking in her usual clear voice, when suddenly the drawing room opened and the Countess peeped out. Her face was dusky red, and convulsed with anger.
“What is all this noise?” she exclaimed in French; “we cannot hear ourselves speak!”
Then, as she saw who it was, she went on, more quietly, in English, “Something very, very sad has occurred. You remember Mr. Ponting coming here to dinner? Well, after leaving the house that unhappy man, who had evidently been losing heavily at the tables, went out and killed himself. A cruel return for our hospitality! I desire you, Lily, to come in and tell this gentleman what you remember of that evening.”