"I have been waiting for you—they told me you were there." She pointed with a shudder to the door. "What are we to do?"
"Don't ask me," Lady Helena answered, helplessly. "I don't know. I feel stunned and stupid with all these horrors."
"The police are here," Miss Catheron went on, "and the coroner has been apprised. I suppose, they will hold an inquest to-morrow."
Her aunt looked at her in surprise. The calm, cold tone of her voice grated on her sick heart.
"Have you seen him?" she asked almost in a whisper. "Inez—I fear—I fear it is turning his brain."
Miss Catheron's short, scornful upper lip, curled with the old look of contempt.
"The Catheron brain was never noted for its strength. I shall not be surprised at all. Poor wretch!" She turned away and looked out into the darkness. "It does seem hard on him."
"Who can have done it?"
The question on every lip rose to Lady Helena's, but somehow she could not utter it. Did Inez know of the dark, sinister suspicion against herself? Could she know and be calm like this?
"I forgot to ask for Uncle Godfrey," Inez's quiet voice said again. "Of course he is better, or even at such a time as this you would not be here?"