“Well, really, Dick!—”
“I know, Peggy, I know you won’t break a confidence; but indeed it is important that I know.”
Peggy debated for a moment while Mrs Macallister looked thoughtfully at them. What were those two young people up to? It behooved her to find out.
“Then, I think I’d better tell you, Dick; particularly as I’m not breaking any confidence. Alfred Clark is devoted to Beatrice, and I overheard him making desperate love to her at their house on Tuesday night, or rather Wednesday morning. I was searching for Beatrice to say good-by and walked in upon them in the private office. You know it was a very large party, and the entire first floor was thrown open to accommodate the guests. Beatrice seemed glad of the interruption, but Mr. Clark looked as black as a thunder cloud. I rather enjoyed his discomfiture,” and Peggy laughed at the recollection. “One gets so tired of his perpetual smile.”
“Do you think Miss Trevor returns his affection?”
Peggy looked troubled. “Beatrice is very reserved,” she said. “She seldom speaks of men’s attentions to her, even to me, her best friend. If you had asked me that question a month ago I would have said positively, ‘No’—but lately, Beatrice, without actually encouraging Mr. Clark, has allowed him to be with her more than formally.”
“Then you think—?”
“I don’t know what I think,” pettishly.
“Was this supper given the night before the murder?”
“Yes. Madame Bernhardt was the guest of honor.”