I stood gazing at the startling scene, wondering what had occurred.
Mrs Parham was, I saw, a brown-haired, good-looking young lady of about twenty-six. Her black silk blouse was fastened at the throat by a beautiful diamond brooch—one from her husband’s stock perhaps—but she wore no other ring except the badge of matrimony.
Her eyes were closed, and it appeared as though she had fainted, yet across her left cheek from mouth to ear was a deep livid ridge. A scarf somewhat similar to that used to stifle the cries of the maid had been used upon her.
“Tell us what’s happened?” inquired Laking, eagerly. “Who’s done this?”
The housemaid, turning from her mistress, replied,—
“Jane went to pull down the blinds about three-quarters of an hour ago, and I heard the mistress playing the piano in here. Then she suddenly stopped, but knowing that Jane was here I thought she was talking to her. Then I didn’t think any more about it till I found that the hot water hadn’t been put in the mistress’s bedroom, and that the blinds were still up. I went down to the kitchen, but cook said that Jane was still with the mistress. I said she’d been there a long time, and cook said perhaps she was getting a blowing up. It was ’er night out last night, and she was a half-hour late, and Mrs Parham is very particular, as you know.”
“And didn’t you hear anything?” I asked, surprised.
“Not a sound. It was the quietness of the place that first aroused my suspicion,” said the girl. “I crept along the hall and listened at the door to hear what the mistress was saying to Jane. But there was no sound. Then I went back and told cook, and we thought that they’d both gone upstairs perhaps. Presently I went back and tapped at the door, for it was nearly an hour since Jane had gone into the room. Nobody answered, so I pushed the door open, and there, to my horror, saw ’em both lying on the floor with these black things round their faces.”
“And you rushed out and gave the alarm?”
“I called in Lane, who’d just finished work and was going home. Then we hailed a telegraph boy who was passing and sent him for the doctor and the police. At first we thought the poor mistress was dead, but, you see, she’s still breathing, although very slightly. Look!” she added, holding up the scarf, “there’s a funny smell about it.”