The idea was absurd.
There was a mystery about the whole thing, a tantalizing mystery, which both women were eager to solve.
Evidently Miss Douglas had seen better days, they reasoned, or she could never have received the excellent education she possessed; but then any enterprising person in moderate circumstances could acquire that under the training of the first-class schools which are found in most of the larger cities of the United States.
While these thoughts were passing through the mind of Mrs. Coolidge, she heard the hall door open and close, and Brownie’s voice in cheerful conversation with Wilbur.
He had joined her by accident (?) while she was walking, and had made himself so entertaining and agreeable that the clouds upon her face had all been driven away.
She tripped gayly upstairs, wholly unconscious of the thunderbolt awaiting her.
Isabel confronted her as she reached the top stairs.
“Mamma would like to see you in her dressing-room immediately, Miss Douglas,” she said, haughtily.
She colored at the tone and manner, but, wholly unconscious of any coming evil, she obeyed the summons as soon as she had removed her hat and jacket.
She found Mrs. Coolidge sitting cold and dignified in her armchair.