“I’ve spent the night and day looking for Arabella!” Farrington cried. “I have no other interest—no other aim in life but to find Arabella. All I can tell you is that I saw her at the Sorona Tea House Tuesday afternoon, and that last night she was on these grounds; in fact, she saw you all gathered here and heard everything that was said in this room.”
“Young man, you know too little or too much,” said Banning. “Gadsby, do your duty!”
The detective took a step forward, looked into the barrel of his own automatic, and paused, waving his hand to the sheriff and his deputies to guard the doors and windows.
“How do you know she was at the tea house?” asked Mrs. Banning. “It seems to me that’s the first question.”
“I met her there,” Farrington blurted. “I met her there by appointment!”
“Then you admit, you villain,” began Banning, choking with rage, “that you lured my daughter, an innocent child, to a lonely tea house; that you saw her last night; and that now—now!—you know nothing of her whereabouts! This, sir, is——”
“Oh, it’s really not so bad!” came in cheery tones from above. “It was I who lured Mr. Farrington to the tea house, and I did it because I knew he was a gentleman.”
Farrington had seen her first—the much-sought Arabella—stealing down the stairway to the landing, where she paused and leaned over the railing, much at ease, to look at them.
Her name was spoken in gasps, in whispers, and was thundered aloud only by Miss Collingwood.
“This was my idea,” said Arabella quietly as they all turned toward her. “I’ve been hiding in the old cottage by the pond, right here on father’s place—with John and Mary, who’ve known me since I was a baby. This is my house party—a scheme to get you all together. I thought that maybe, if papa and mama really thought I was lost, and if papa and Mr. Coningsby and Mademoiselle Zaliska all met under the same roof, they might understand one another better—and me.