“I never heard of a ‘second’ family in Georgetown,” smiled Eleanor; then, seeing her cousin’s offended expression, she hastily changed the subject. “Have you heard the shocking news of Senator Carew’s—” she hesitated for a moment—“tragic death?”
“Indeed I have. Washington is talking of nothing else. Why are you packing, Annette?” as the servant entered.
“Mrs. Winthrop has just written and asked me to spend a few days with them,” explained Eleanor hurriedly, “so suppose you invite Miss Crane to stay with you in my absence.”
“Of course you cannot very well decline to go,” said Mrs. Truxton thoughtfully. “Still, I hate to have you mixed up in such an affair, Eleanor.”
“Nonsense, Cousin Kate, you must not look at it in that light,” Eleanor patted the fat shoulder nearest her affectionately. “Cynthia told me yesterday that Senator Carew had said he was going to discharge the coachman, Hamilton (a surly brute, I always thought him), for drunkenness. I have no doubt he committed the murder from revenge, and while under the influence of liquor.”
“I sincerely trust that is the correct solution of the mystery,” Mrs. Truxton looked dubious, “but there has been one fearful scandal in that family already, Eleanor, and I very much doubt if Senator Carew was killed by a servant.”
“Why, what do you mean?” Eleanor wheeled around in her chair and faced her abruptly.
“Time will show.” Mrs. Truxton shook her head mysteriously.
“Oh, nonsense!” exclaimed Eleanor impatiently.
As Mrs. Truxton opened her lips to reply, Annette reëntered the room.