"Oh, ma'am, at the inquest, most probably," returns Nellie, surprised; then, with an imploring look, "oh, Mrs. Charteris, please'm don't tell him what I told you. I know Mr. Langton would discharge me for listening. I shouldn't have told you, never, but for Miss Maud."
Reine looks at her sadly. A far-away look in her "dark—dark eyes."
"You needn't be afraid, Nell. I shall never tell him," she says, slowly, and passes on.
She opens the library door softly, and goes in. Mr. Langton is sitting dejectedly in his arm-chair.
"Uncle, dear," she says, in a strange, low voice, "tell me where to find Mr. Charteris."
He starts, guiltily, it seems to her. His fingers close over a slip of paper in his hand.
"You want Vane—oh, ah, yes, of course," he says, confusedly. "What can you want of Vane?"
She smiles sadly to herself. Her own husband, yet "what can she want of him."
"A matter of business, sir," she replies, with cold brevity.