"To whom?" he asked.
"That is just the question that I knew would follow," returned Mrs. Penn, "and I must decline to answer it. No, Mr. Chandos; you possess the same facilities for observing and judging that I do: in fact, greater ones: and if you cannot draw your own deductions, I certainly will not help you to them. I might be wrong, you know."
"You must allude to an inmate of Chandos?"
"I should deem it impossible that any but an inmate of Chandos could play these tricks. Where would be the opportunity?"
"Mrs. Penn, if you possess any clue; nay, if you think you have any well-founded cause of suspicion, you ought to impart it to me," he gravely said.
"Were I sure that my suspicions were correct, I would do so; but, as I say, they may be mistaken. Forgive me, if I hint that perhaps your own eyes are shut closer than they need be."
She hastened away, leaving the impression of her mysterious words behind. I wondered very much if she alluded to Lizzy Dene.
That same evening I had an opportunity of asking her. Mr. Chandos went to the west wing after dinner, I sat near the lights, working at my bag, when Mrs. Penn came into the oak-parlour, not having troubled herself to knock for admittance.
"It's fine to be you, Anne Hereford," she said, putting herself into Mr. Chandos's chair by the fire. "I wish I had this room to sit in."
"Are the rooms upstairs not comfortable?"