“I shall tell Hewitt that this is a case of suicide, and don’t either of you dare contradict me!”
At that moment Doctor Hewitt appeared upon the doorstep, returning from his fool’s errand, and Mr. Finley hurriedly drew him in, and shut the door, turning the key in the lock. Strangely enough, no one had been attracted to the scene by the sound of the pistol shot, and he felt safe to carry out the deception.
“Doctor, here is a new case for you!” he exclaimed, and, turning up the gas, the dreadful scene was revealed in all its horror and pathos.
Doctor Hewitt had been physician to Arnell & Grey for many years, and, in the beautiful girl lying unconscious in a pool of blood on the floor, he instantly recognized the little factory girl who had come to harm years ago and then disappeared so mysteriously as to leave abroad the impression that she had drowned herself.
“Pansy Laurens!” he exclaimed, in a shocked tone, and Mr. Finley replied:
“Yes, it is poor Pansy. Is it not dreadful to think that, after staying away all these years, she should return to commit suicide in her mother’s house?”
“Suicide?” echoed Doctor Hewitt.
“Yes; we all heard a shot, and, rushing into the hall, found Pansy lying like this, and this pistol on the floor, where it had dropped from her hand,” exhibiting the pistol Willie had thrown down.
Doctor Hewitt was on his knees by Pansy’s side, examining her wound, and in a few minutes he looked up, and said, in a tone of relief:
“She has not succeeded in her awful design. The bullet only went through her shoulder, and she is not likely to die from that.”