"It was the night that John Ollivera came by his death. He was in Helstonleigh for the assizes, you know; he was to have pleaded the next day in a cause mamma was interested in. He said he would come in to tea if he were able; and when Bede Greatorex appeared we were all surprised, not knowing that he was at Helstonleigh. We still expected Mr. Ollivera, and Louisa kept casting frightened glances to the door every time it opened. I know she felt at her wit's end; for of course with both her lovers on the scene, a crisis was inevitable, and her deceit would have to come out. Bede Greatorex was whispering to her at times throughout the evening; there seemed to be some trouble between them. Mr. Ollivera did not come--Bede told us he had left him busy, and complaining of a headache. I thought Bede seemed very angry with Louisa; and as soon as he left, she bolted herself in her chamber, and we did not see her again that night. The next morning she sent word down she was ill, and stayed in bed. Mary said she knew what it was that ailed her--worry; but I thought she only wished to avoid being downstairs if the two called. We were at breakfast when Hurst, the surgeon; came in--he was attending mamma at the time--and brought the dreadful news to us, that Mr. Ollivera had been found dead. I carried the tidings up to Louisa, and told her that she must have gone out and killed him. Nothing else could have extricated her so completely from the dilemma."
"But--you don't mean that she--that she went out and killed him?" cried Roland in puzzled wonder. "Could she have got out without being seen?"
"Of course I don't mean it; I said it to her in joke. Why, Roland, you must be stupid to ask such a thing."
"To be sure I must," answered Roland, in contrition. "It's all through my having been at Port Natal."
The last word was drowned in a shiver of glass. Both of them turned hastily. Mr. Bede Greatorex, in taking his elbow from the ormolu cabinet behind the sofa, had accidentally knocked down a beautiful miniature fountain of Bohemian glass, which had been throwing up its choice perfume.
"He certainly heard me," breathed Clare Joliffe, excessively discomfited. "I never knew he was there."
The breakage caused some commotion, and must have annoyed Mr. Bede Greatorex. He rang the bell loudly for a servant, and those who caught a view of his face, saw that it had a white stillness on it, painful as death.
Roland made his escape. The evening, so far as he was concerned, seemed a failure, and he thought he would leave the rooms without further ceremony. Leaping down the staircase a flight at a time, he met Jane Greatorex ascending attended by her coloured maid.
"Halloa! what brings you sitting up so late as this?" cried free Roland.
"We've been spending the evening with grandpapa in his room," answered Jane. "He gave us some cakes and jam, and Miss Channing made the tea. I've got to go to bed now."