“No. On the contrary, she seemed brighter and more cheerful during the past ten days,” Kitty answered.
“Was she ever despondent?”
“No,” promptly. “She always looked on the bright side of things. I—” with a fleeting smile—“I was the pessimist of the family.”
“I see.” Coroner Penfield regarded her thoughtfully. She looked barely out of her ‘teens,’ and hers was certainly not the face of a pessimist—youth, good health, and good looks did not conspire to a gloomy outlook on life. “Who were your aunt’s intimate friends?”
“Do you mean women of her own age?”
“Yes; of her age, and also of yours.”
Kitty debated the question thoughtfully before answering it. “Not many of Aunt Susan’s old friends are alive,” she said. “Aunty had just passed her seventieth birthday. She liked all my friends.”
“All?”
“Yes.” Kitty regarded him steadfastly. She had noted the emphasis on the word “all.” A moment passed before the coroner addressed her again.