THE FILIGREE BALL.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 21, Issue 38, 20 May 1910, Page 7

THE FILIGREE BALL.

(Copyright.)

BY ANNA KATHERINE GREEN, Author of "The Leavenworth Case." PART 5, • But when Mr. Jeffrey was asked to ' five the name of this man, he show- , *d confusion and presently was oblig- ' ad to admit that he could neither re.icall his name nor remember any- ' thing about him, but that he was Some one whom he knew well, and 1 who knew him well. He affirmed that the two had met and spoken near 'Soldiers' Home shortly after the sun went down, and that the man would '.fee sure to remember this meeting if we could only find him.

, As Soldiers' Home was several miles from the Moore house and quite I »ut of the way of all his accustomed haunts, Coroner Z. asked him how 'he came to be there. lie replied that he had just come from Rock Creek Cemetery. That he had been in a wretched state of mind all day, and possibly being influenced by what he iad heard of the yearly vigils Mr, ; Hoore was in the habit of keeping there, had taken a notion to stroll among the graves, in search of the . rest and peace of mind he had failed to find in his aimless walks about .'the city. At least, that was the way he chose to account for the meeting he mentioned. Falling into reverie again, he seemed to be trying to recall the name which at this (moment was of such importance to him. But it was without" avail, as be presently acknowledged.

■ "I can not remember who it was. My brain is whirling, and I can re- ■ collect nothing but that this man and myself left the cemetery togethi er*on the night mentioned, just as the gate was being closed. As it ■I closes at sundown, the hour can be fixed to a minute. It was somewhere near seven, I believe; near enough, I am sure, for it to have been impossible for me to be at the Moore house at the time my unhappy wife is supposed to have taken her life. There is no doubt about your believing this?" he demanded with sudden haughtiness, as, rising to his feet, he confronted us in all the pride of his exceptionally handsome person. "We wish to believe it," assented the coroner, rising in his turn. "That our belief may become certainty, will you let us know, the instant you recall the name of the man you talked with at the cemetery gate? His testimony, far more than any word of vours, will settle this question which otherwise may a vexed one." Mr. Jeffrey's hand went up to his f*al Was he acting a part or did he really forget just what it was for his own best welfare to remember? If he had forgotten, it argued that he was in a state of greater disturbance on that night than would naturally be occasioned by a mere lover's quarrel with his wife. Did the- same thought strike my companion? I can not say; I can only give you his next words. "You have said that your wife would not be likely to end her life in presence of any one but yourself. Yet you must see that some one waa with her. How do you propose to reconcile your assertions with a fact so undeniable?" "I can- not reconcile them. It would madden me to try. If I thought any one was with her at th:it moment —" "Well?"

Mr. Jeffrey's eyes fell; and a startling change came over him. But before either of us could make out just what this cnange betokened he recovered his aspect of fixed mel-. ancholy and quietly remarked: "It is dreadful to think of her standing there alone, aiming a pistol at her young, passionate heart; but it is "Worse to picture her doing this under the gaze of unsympathizing eyes. I can not and will not so picture her. You have been mislead by appearances or what in police par. lance is called a clue." Evidently he did not mean to admit the possibility of the pistol having been fired by any other hand but her own. This the coroner noted. Bowing with the respect he showed every man before a jury had decided upon his guilt, lie turned toward the door out of which I had already hurried. "We hope to hear from you in the morning he called back significantly, as he stepped down the stairs. Mr. Jeffrey did not answer; he was having his first struggle with the new and terrible prospect awaiting him at the approaching inquest.

BOOK 11. CHAPTER XI. The days of my obscurity were over. Henceforth, I was regarded as a decided factor in this case—a case which from this time on, assumed another aspect both at headquarters and in the minds of people at large. The reporters, whom we had hitherto managed to hold in check, now ©verflowed both the coroner's office and police headquarters, and articles appeared in all the daily papers with fust enough suggestion in them to fire the public mind and make me. lor one, anticipate an immediate Urord from Mr. Jeffrey calculated to establish the alibi he had failed to Sake out on the day we talked with m. But no such word came. His jneznory still played him false, and Ho alternative was left but to pursue Ihe official inquiry in the line suggested by the interview just recounted.

No proceeding in which I had ever been engaged interested me as did this inquest. In the first place, the spectators wore of a very different characfer from the ordinary. As I wormed myself along to the seat accorded to such witnesses as myself, I brushed by men of the very highest station and a few of tho lowest; and bent my head more than once in response to the inquiring gaze of some fashionable lady who never before, I warrant, had found herself in such a scene. By the time I reached my place all the mhers were seated and the-coroner riipped for order. I wns first to In'o the stand. What J said has already I>een fully ampli,tx»l in the foregoing pafifcs. Of cpurse t

iny evidence was confined to racts, but some of these facts were new to most of the persons there. It was evident that a considerable effect was produced by them, not only on tho spectators, but upon the witnesses themselves. For instance, it was the first time that the marks on the mantel-shelf had been heard of outside the major's office, or the story told as to ma"ke it evident that Mrs. Jeffrey could not have been alone in the house at the time of her death. A photograph had been taken of those marks, and my identification of this photograph closed my testimony. As I returned to my seat T stole a look toward a certain corner wnere, with face bent down upon his hands, Francis Jeffrey sat between Uncle David and the heavily-veiled figure of Miss Tuttle. Had there dawned up* .on him as my testimony was given any suspicion of the trick by which he had been proved responsible for those marks? It was impossible to tell. From the way Miss Tuttle's head was turned toward him, one might judge him to be laboring under an emotion of no ordinary character, though he sat like a statue and hardly seemed to realize how many eyes were at that moment riveted upon his face. I was followed by other detectives who had been present at the time and who corroborated my statement as to the appearance of this unhappy woman and the way the pistol had been tied to her arm. Then the doctor who had acted under the coroner was called. After a long and no doubt learned description of the bullet wound which had ended the life of this unhappy lady,—a wound which he insisted, with a marked display of learning, must have made that end instantaneous or at least too immediate for her to move foot or hand after it,—ho was asked if the body showed any other mark of violence.

To this he replied: "There was a minute wound at the base of one of her fingers, the ona which is popularly called the wedding finger." This statement made all the women present staro with renewed interest; nor was it altogether without point for the men, especially when the doctor went on to say;

"The hands were entirely without rings. As Mrs. Jeffrey had been married with a ring, I noticed their absence." "Was this wound which you characterize as minute a recent one?" "It had bled a little. It was an /abrasion such as would be made if the ring she usually wore there had been drawn off with a jerk. That was the impression I received from its appearance. Ido not state that it was so made."

A little thrill which went over the audience at the picture this evoked communicated itself to Miss Tuttle, who trembled violently. It even produced a slight display of emotion in Mr. Jeffrey, whose hand shook where he pressed it against his forehead. But neither uttered a sound, nor looked up when tho next witness was summoned.

This witness proved to be Lioretta, ■ who, on hearing her name called,; evinced great reluctance to come for- J ward. But after two or three words | uttered in her ear by the friendly j Jinny, who had been given a seat next her, she stepped into the place j assigned her with a' suddenly assuiu-. ed air of great boldness, which sat ■ upon her with scant grace. She had' need of all the boldness at her corn- • mand, for the eyes of all in the room ■ were fixed on her, with the exception', of the two persons most interested. in her testimony. Scrutiny of any, kind did not appear to be acceptable; to her, if one could only read the trepidation visible 1 in the short, quick;, upheavals of the broad collar which; covered her uneasy breast. Was this, shrinking on her part due to natural j timidity, or had she failings to j avow which, while not vitiating her testimony, would certainly cause her ; shame in the presence of so many; men and women? I was not able to j decide this question immediately; for • after the coroner had elicted her [ name and the position she held in> Mr. Jeffrey's household he askedwhether her duties took her into \ Mrs. Jeffrey's room; upon her reply-j ing that they did, he further inquir- , ed if she knew Mrs. Jeffrey's rings, ; and could say whether they were all to be found on that lady's toilettable after the police came in with news of her death. The answer was decisive. They were all there; her rings and all the other ornaments she was in the daily habit of wearing, with the exception of her watch. That was not there. "Did you take up those rings?" "No, sir." "Did you see any one else take them up?" "No, sir; not till the ofßcer did BO." "Very Well, Loretta, sit doWr again till we hear what Durbin has to say about these rings." I And then the man I hated camo ! forward, and though I shrank from acknowledging it even to myself, I | could but observe how strong and • quiet and self-possessed he seemed and how decisive was his testimony.

But it was equally brief. He had taken up the rings and he had looked at them; and on one, the Wed-ding-ring, he had detected a slight stain of blood. He had called Mr. Jeffrey's attention to it, but that gentleman had made no comment. This remark had the effect of concentrating general attention upon Mr. Jeffrey. * But he seemed quite oblivious of it; his attitude remained unchanged, and only from the quick stretching out and withdrawal of Miss Tuttle's hand could it be seen that anything had been said calculated to touch or arouse this man. The coroner cast an.uneasy glance in his direction; then he motioned Bur. bin aside and recalled Loretta. And now I began to bu sorry fo( the girl. v Tt is hard to have one's weaknesses- exposed, especially if oiw is more foolish than wicked. But there was no way of letting this girl off without sacrificing certain necessary points, and the coroner went relentlessly to work. "How long have you been in this house'?" "Throe weeks. Ever since Mrs. Jeffrey's wedding day, sir." "Were you there when she first came as a bride from the Moore house?"

"I was, sir." | "-How did she look and act that first day?"

"I thought her the gayest bride I had ever seen, then I thought her the saddest, and then I did not know what to think. She was so merry one minute and so frightened the

next, so full of talk when ahe came running up the steps and so struek with silence the minute she got Into the parlor, that I set h«r down as •

queer, one till some one whispered in my ear that she was suffering from a dreadful shock; that ill-luck had at- 1 tended her marriage and much more about what had happened from time to time at the Moore house." "And you believed what was told you?" "Believed?"

"Believed it well enough to keep a watch on your young mistress to sea if she were happy or not?"-

"Oh, sir!" "It was but natural," th« coroner

suavely observed. "Every one felt interested in this marriage. You Watched her of course. Now what was the result? Did you consider, her well and happy?" The girl's voice sank and she cast a glance at her master which he did not lift his head to meet. "I did not think her happy. She laughed and sang and was always in and out of the rooms like a butterfly, but she did not wear a happy look,

except now and then when she was seated with Mr. Jeffrey alone. Then I have seen her flush in a way to make the heart ache; it was such a contrast, sir, to other times when she was by herself or—" "Or what?" "Or just with her sister, sir." 1 The defiance with which this was. said added point to what otherwise might have been an unimportant admission. Those who had already scrutinized Miss Tuttle with the curiosity of an ill-defined suspicion now scrutinized her with a more palpable

one, and those who had hitherto seen nothing in this heavily-veiled woman but the bereaved sister of an irresponsible suicide allowed their looks to dwell piercingly on that concealing veil, as if they would be glad to penetrate its folds and read in those beautiful features the mean-

ing. of an allusion uttered with such a sting in the tone. "You refer to Miss Tuttle?" ob-

! served the coroner. j "Mrs. Jeffrey's sister? Yes, sir." ' The menace was gone from the voice • now, but no one could forget that it ■■ had been there. • '"Miss Tuttle lived in the house | with her sister, did she not?".

| "Yes, sir; till that sister died and , was buried; then she went away." \ The coroner did not pursue this '.. topic, preferring to return to the t former one. ii "So you say that Mrs. Jeffrey ? showed uneasiness ever since her , wedding day. Can you give me any

instance of this; mention, I mean, any conversations overheard by you which would show us just what you mean?"

"I don't like to repeat things I bear. But if you say that I must, I ■can remember once passing Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey in the hall, just as he was saying: 'You take it too much to heart! I expected a happy hon-

eymoon. Somehow, we have failed—' That was all I heard, sir. But what -made me remember his words was that she was dressed for some afternoon reception and looked so charming and so —and so, as if she ought to be happier." "Just so. Now, when was this? How long before her death?" "Oli, a week or so. It was very

soon after the wedding day." "And did matters seem to improve after that? Did she appeal - any better satisfied or more composed?" "I think she endeavored to. But there was something on her mind, something which she tried to laugh

off; something that annoyed Mr. .Jeffrey and worried Miss Tuttle; something- which caused a cloud in the

house, for all tho dances and dinners and goings and comings. lam sorry lo speak of it, but it was so." "Something that showed an unsettled mind?"

"Almost. The glitter in her eye was not natural; neither was the way she looked at her sister and sometimes at her husband." "Did she talk much about the catastrophe which attended her wedding'? Did her mind seem to run on that?"

"Incessantly at first; but afterward not so much. I think Mr. Jeffrey frowned on that subject." ";Did ke ever frown on her?" "No, sir—not —not when they were alone or with no one by but me. He seemed to love her then very much." "What do you mean by that, Loretta; that he lost patience with her when other people were present—Miss Tuttle, for instance?" "Yes, sir. He used to change very much when—when —when Miss Tuttle came into tho room." "Change toward his wife?" "Yes, sir." "How?" "He grew more distant, much more distant; got up quite fretfully from his seat, if he were sitting beside her, and took up some book or paper." "And Miss Tuttle?" "She never seemed to notice but—" "But—?" She did not come in very often after this had happened once or twice; I mean into the room upstairs where they used to sit." "Loretta, I regret to put this question, but after your replies I owe it to the jury, if not to the parties theniselves, to make Miss Tuttle's position in this household thoroughly understood. Do you think she was a welcome visitor in this house?"

The girl pursed up her lips, glanced at the lady and gentleman wjhose feelings she was supposed to pass comment on, and seemed to lose heart. Then, as they failed to respond to her look of appeal, she strove to get the better of her sense of shame and, with a somewhat injured air, replied: "I can only repeat what I once heard said about this by Mr. Jeffrey himself. Miss Tuttle had just left the dining-room and Mrs. Jeffrey was standing in one of her black moods, with her hand on the top of her chair, ready to go but forgetting to do so. I was there, but neither of them noticed me; he was staring at her, and she was looking down. Neither seemed at ease. Suddenly lie spoke and asked, 'Why must Cora remain with us?' Sho started and her look grew strange and frightened. 'Because I want her to.' she cried. T can not live without Cora.' " These words, so different from what we wore expecting, caused a sensation in the room and consequently a stir. As the noise of shifting feet, and moving heads began to be heard in all directions, Miss Tuttle's head drooped a little, but Francis Jeffrey did not betray any sign of feeling or even of attention. The coroner, embarrassed, perhaps, by this exhibition

or silent misery so near him, hesitated a little before he put his next questioa. Loretta, on the contrary, had gathered courage with every word she spoke and now looked ready for anything. "It was Mrs. Jeffrey, then, who clung mest determinedly to her sister?" the coroner finally suggested. "I have told you what she said." "Yet these sisters spent but little time together?" "Very little; as little as two persons could who lived together in one house."

This statement, which seemed such a contradiction to her former one, increased the interest; and much dis- , appointment was covertly shown j when the coroner veered off from this topic and brusquely inquired: I "Did you ever know Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey to have any open rupture?" The answer was a decided one. "Yes. On Tuesday morning pre-1 ceding her death they had a long and ' angry talk in their own room, after which Mrs. Jeffrey made no further effort to conceal her wretchedness. Indeed, one may say she began to , die from that hour." I Mrs. Jeffrey's death had occurcd on j Wednesday evening. | "Let us hear what you have to j say about this quarrel and what' happened after it." The girl, with a renewed flush, cast a deprecatory look at the mass of faces before her, and, meeting on all sides but one look of intense and growing interest, drew up her neat figure with a relieved air and began a story which I will proceed to transcribe for you in the fewest pos- > sible words.

Tuesday morning's breakfast had been a silent one. There had been a ball the night before at Hume great place on Massachusetts Avenue; but no one spoke of it. Miss Tuttle made some remark about a friend she had met there, but as no one listened to her, she soon stopped and in a little while left the table. Mr. and j Mrs. Jeffrey sat on, but neither said anything. Finally Mr. Jeffrey rose and, speaking in a voice hardly re- | cognizable, remarked that he had something to say to her, and led the way to their room. Mrs. Jeffrey | looked frightened as she followed him; so frightened that it was evident that something very serious ! had occurred or was about to occur between them. As nothing of this kind had ever happened before, Lo- \ retta could not help waiting about till Mr. Jeffrey "reappeared; and when he did so and she saw no signs of relief in his face or manner, she watched, with the silly interest of a girl who had nothing else to occupy her mind, to see if he would leave the house in such a mood, and without | making peace with his young bride. To her surprise he did not go out at j the usual time, but went to Miss i Tuttle's room, where for a full halfI hour he remained closeted with his ! sister-in-law, talking in excited and unnatural tones. Then he went back for a few minutes to where he had left his wife, in her own boudoir. "But he could not have had much to say to her this time, for he presently came out again and ran hastily downstairs and out, almost without stopping to catch up his hat.

As it was Mary's business, and not the witness', to make Mrs. Jeffrey's ! bed in the morning, Loretta could j think of no excuse for approaching her mistress' room at this moment; but later, when letters came, followed by various messages and some ''visitors, she went more than a dozen times to Mrs. Jeffrey's door. She was not admitted, nor were her appeals answered, except by a sharp "Go I away!" ! Nor was Miss Tuttle received any I better, though she tried more than once to see her sister, especially as j night came on and the hour ap- ; proached for Mr. .Jeffrey's return. Mrs. i Jeffrey was simply determined to ro- ) main alone; and when dinner time arrived, and no Mr. Jeffrey, she could only he induced to open her : door only wide enough to take in the cup of tea which Miss Tuttle insisted upon sending her.

The witness here confessed that she : , had been very much excited by these ; unusual proceedings and by the effect which they seemed to have on the ; i lady just mentioned; so she was j ready to notice that Mrs., Jeffrey's | hand shook like that of an old arid palsied woman when she reached out , for the tray. | Gladly would Loretta have caught ' one glimpse of her face, but it was hidden by the door; nor did Mrs. Jeffrey answer a single one of her ! questions. She simply closed her door and kept it so till toward mid- j , night, when Miss Tuttle, coming in- | jto the hall, ordered the hou.se to be j | closed for the night. Then the long- I shut door softly swung open, but be- j I fore any one could reach it, it was ; again pulled to and locked. j

i The next day brought no relief. j Miss Tuttle, who had changed great- \ jly during this unhappy day and ; | night, succeeded no better than be- ; i fore in getting access to her sister, j ! nor could Loretta gain the least I word from her mistress till toward the latter part of the afternoon, j when that lady, ringing her bell, ; I gave her first order. i j "A substantial dinner," she cried; [ and when Loretta, greatly relieved, j i brought up the required meal she : was astonished to iind the door open, and herself bidden to enter. The sight which met her eyes staggered her. From one end of the room to ' the other were signs of great ner- j vous unrest and of terrible suffering, j The chairs were pushed into corners j as if the wretched bride had tramped ■ the floor in an agony of excitement. ; Curtains were torn and the piano- ; cover was hanging half on and half : off the open upright, as if she had clutched at it to keep herself from falling. On the floor beneath lay several pieces of broken china —vases : of whose valua Mr. Jeffrey had often spoken, but \vhi»h, jerked off with the cover, had been left where they fell; while immediately in front of . the fireplace lay one of the rugs toss- . ed into a heap, as if she had rolled ; in it on the floor or used it to smother her cries of pain or anger.

So much for the state m which uie witness found the boudoir. The adjoining bed-room was not in much better case, though it was -evident that the bed itself had not been lain it was made up the day before at breakfast time. , By this token M'rs. Jeffrey.had not slept the night before, or if she had laid her head anywhere it had been on the rug already spoken of. These signs of extreme mental suffering, so much more extreme than any Loretta had ever before witnessed, frightened her so that the tray shook in her hand as she set it down on the table among the countless objects Mrs. Jeffrey had always

I about her. The noise seemed to j startle her mistress, who had walked to the window after opening the ! door, for she wheeled impetuously about and Loretta saw her face. It was as if a blight had passed over it. Once gay and animated beyond the power ftf any on* to describe, it had become in twenty-four hours a ghost's face, with the glare of some [ ' awful resolve on it. Or so it would J appear from the way Loretta de-1 ; scribed it. But such girls do not | . always see correctly, and perhaps ; all that can be safely stated is that Mrs. Jeffrey was unnaturally pale and,had lost her butterfly-like way oi , incessant movement. j Loretta, who was evidently accustomed to seeing her mistress arrayed I in brilliant colors and much begemmed, laid great stress on the fact that, though it was on the verge of I evening and she was evidently going | out, she was dressed in black cloth and without even a diamond or a flower to relieve its severe simplicity. Her hair, too, which was always her pride, was piled in a careless mass! : upon her head as if she had tried to I I arrange it herself and had forgotten! what she was doing while her fingers I were but half through their work. ! There was a cloak lying on a chair ' near which she was standing, and she held a hat in her hand; but Loretta saw no gloves. As the maid's glance and that. of her mistress crossed. Mrs. Jeffrey spoke, and the effort she made in doing so naturally frighten- \ ed the girl still more. "I am going out," were her words. "I may not, be home till late—What are you look- j ing at?" I

Loretta declared that the words' took her by surprise and that she did not know what to say, but managed |to cover up her embarrassment by '-, | intimating that if her mistress would! i let her touch up her hair a bit she would make her look more natural. I At this suggestion, 'Mrs. Jeffrey i cast a glance in the glass and im-! I petuously declared, "It doesn't matI ter." But she seemed to think better of it the next minute; for, throwing | , herself in a chair, she bade the girl j to bring a comb, and sat quiet enough, though evidently in a great j tremor of haste and impatience, while j Loretta combed her hair and put it' j up in the old way, j j But the old way was not as becoming as usual, and Loretta was wondering if she ought to call in , Miss Tuttle, when Mrs. Jeffrey jump- j ed to her feet and went over to the j ; table and began to eat with the fev- j erish haste of one who forces him-1 self to take food in spite of hurry ' and distaste. | I This was the moment for Loretta to ' leave the room; but she did not know how %o do so. She felt herself fixed to the spot and stood watching . Mrs. Jeffrey till that lady, suddenly, becoming conscious of the girl's pre-1 . sence, turned, and in the midst ol: ; the moans which broke unconsciously! .' from her lips, said with a pitiable J j effort at her old manner: l | "Go away, Loretta; lam ill; Ii j have been ill for two days. I don't j like people to look at me like • ■that!" Then, as the girl shrank! : back, added in a breaking voice : j . "When Mr. Jeffrey comes home —" i 1 and said no more for several min- ' : utes, during which she clutched her '. ■ throat with both hands and struggl-1 ; ed with herself till she got her voice! back and found herself able to re-; j peat: "When Mr. Jeffrey comes—if he' I does come—tell" him that I was right i i about the way that novel ended. Re-; : member that you are to say to him i : the moment you see him that I was ' . right about the novel, and that he i is to look and see if it did not end :as I said it would. And Loretta—" ; 1 here she rose and upproached the ' speaker with a sweet, appealing look, which brought tears to the impres- j sionable girl's eyes, "don't go gossiping about me downstairs. I shan't < be sick long. I am going to be bet- j ter soon, very soon. By the time you see me here again I shall be; ! quite like my old self. Forget how— | how" —and Loretta said she seemed; to have difficulty in finding the: .right word here —"how childish I\ ■ have been." j

Of course Loretta promised, but she : ' is not sure that she would have, ! had the courage to keep all this to ] : herself if she had not heard Mrs. Jef- j frey stop in Miss Tuttle's room on ; her way out. That relieved her, and enabled her to go downstairs to her j own supper with more appetite than she had thought ever to have again. Alas! it was the last good meal she; was able to oat for days. In three' hours afterward a man came from the station-house with the news of Mrs. Jeffrey's suicide in the horrible ! old house in which she had been. j married only two weeks before. J ! As this had been a continuous narI rative and concisely told, the coroner had not interrupted her. When i at this point a little gasp escaped Miss Tuttle and a groan broke from , Francis Jeffrey's hitherto sealed lips, | the feelings of the whole assemblage seemed to find utterance. A young wife's misery culminating in death j on the very spot where she had been ! so lately married! What could be J more thrilling, or appeal more closely to the general heart of humanity? , But the cause of that misery! This was what every one present was eager to have explained. This is what we now expected the coroner to bring out. But instead of continuing on the line he had opened up, ho pro- | ceeded to ask: ! "Where were you when this officer brought the news you mention?" "In the hall, sir. I opened the door for him." | "And to whom did he first men- j tion his errand?" "To Miss Tuttle. She had come in just before him and was standing at the foot of the stairs —" "What! Was Miss Tuttle out that evening?" ! "Yes; she went out very soon after Mrs. Jeffrey left. AVhen she came in she said that she had been around the block, but she must have gone around it more than once, for the l was absent twa hours." | "Did you let her in?" 1 ; "Yes, sir." "And she said she had been around ' the block?" I I "Yes, sir." > | I "Did she say anything else?" i | "She asked if Mr. Jeffrey had come i in '" I j "Anything else?' ] : "Then if Mrs. Jeffrey had returnj ed." "To both of which questions you j answered —" j j "A plain 'No.' " ) j j "Now tell us about the officer." i "He rang the bell almost immedi- ' ately after she did. Thinking she would want to slip upstairs before I admitted any one, I waited a minute for her to go, but she did not do 1 so. and when the officer stepped in : she—" !

"Well!" "She shrieked." "What! before h« spoke?'* .- ' "Yes, sir." .4. "Just at sight of him?'? , "Yes, sir." , "Did he wear his badge in plain view?" "Yes, on his breast." "So that you knew him to be & police officer?" "Yes " "And Miss Tuttle shrieked at se«ing a police officer?" "Yea, and sprang forward,'* | ■ "Did she say anything?" , ' ."Not then." ■ "What did she do?" "Waited for him to speak.'' "Which he did?" "At once, and very brutally, tie asked if she was Mrs. Jeffrey's sister, and when she nodded and gasped 'Yes,' he blurted out that Mrs. Jeffrey was dead; that he had just come from the old house in Waverley Avenue, where she had just been found." "And Miss Tuttle?" "Didn't know what to say; just hid her face. She was leaning against the newel-post, so it was easy fdr her to do so. I remember that the man stared at her for taking it so quietly and asking no questions." ( "And did she speak at all? '

"Oh, yes, afterwards. Her face was wrapped in the folds of her cloak, but I heard her whisper, as if to herself: 'No! no! That old hearth is not a lodestone. She can not have fallen there.' And then she looked up quite wildly and cried: 'There is something more! Something which vou have not told me.' 'She shot herself, if that's what you mean.* Miss Tuttle's arms went straight up over her head. It was awful to see her. 'Shot herself?' she gasped. 'Oh, Veronica, Veronica!' 'With a pistol,' he went on—l suppose he was going to say, 'tied to her wrist,' but he never got it out, ifor Miss Tuttle, at the word 'pistol' clapped her hands to her ears and for a moment looked quite distracted, so that he thought better of worrying her any more and only demanded to know if Mr. Jeffrey kept any such weapon. Miss Tuttle's face grew very strange at this. 'Mr. Jeffrey! was he there?' she asked. The man looked surprised. 'They arc searching for Mr. Jeffrey,' he replied. 'lsn't he here?' 'No,' camo from her lips and mine. The man acted very impertinently. 'You haven't told me whether a pistol was kept here or not,' said he. Miss Tuttle tried to compose herself, but I saw that I should have to speak if any one did, so I told him that Mr. Jeffrey did have a pistol, which he kept in one of his bureau drawers. Dut when the officer wanted Miss Tuttle to go up and see if it was there, she shook her head and made for the front door, saying that she must be taken directly to her sister."

"And did no one go up? Was no attempt made to see if the pistol was or was not in the drawer?" "Ves; the officer went up with me. I pointed out the place where it was kept, and he rummaged all through it, but found no pistol. I didn't expect him to—" Here the. witness paused and bit her lip, adding confusedly: "Mrs. Jeffrey had taken it, you see." The jurors, who sat very much in the shadow, had up to this point attracted but little attention. But now they began to make their presence felt, perhaps because the break in the witness' words had been accompanied by a sly look at Jinny. Possibly warned by this that something lay back of this hitherto timid witness' sudden volubility, one of them now spoke up. "In what room did you say this pistol was kept?" "In Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey's bedroom, sir; the room opening out of the sitting-room where Mrs. Jeffrey had kept herself shut up all day."

"Does this bedroom of which you speak communicate with the hall as well as with the sitting-room?"

"No, sir; it is the defect of, the house. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey often spoke of it as a great annoyance. You had to pass through the little boudoir in order to reach it."

The juryman sank back, evidently i satisfied with her replies, but we ( who marked the visible excitement ! with which the witness had answered this seemingly unimportant question, j wondered what special interest surrounded that room and the pistol to i warrant the heightened, color with j which the girl answered this new in- j terlocutor. We were not destined to know at this time, for the coroner. ! when he spoke again, pursued a dilferent subject. I *"%Tow long was this before Mr. j Jeffrey came in?" "Only a few minutes. I was ter-' ribly frightened at being left there alone and was on my way to ask» j ■ one of the other girls to come up ; ' and stay with me, when I heard his | key in the lock and came back. He ! j had entered the house and was stand- | i ing near the door talking to an ofli- I j cer, who had evidently come in with , him. It was a different officer from \ the one who had gone away with | Miss Tuttlo. Mr. Jeffrey was saying, ! 'What's that? My wife hurt!' 'Dead, ! sir!'' blurted out the man. I had ex- j pected to see Mr. Jeffrey terribly j shocked, but not in so awful a way. i It really frightened me to see him ! and I turned to run, but found that I couldn't and that I had to stand : still and look whether I wanted to I or not. Yet he didn't say a word I or ask a question." ! "What did he do, Loretta?" ! "I can not say; he was on his knees and was white —Oh, how white! Yet he looked up when the man described how and where Mrs. Jeffrey had been found and oven turned toi ward ino when I said something about his wife having left a message for him when she went out. This message, which I almost hesitated to give after the awful news of her death, was about the ending of some story, as you remember, and it seem- ; | eel heartless to speak of it at a moment like this, but as she'had told j me to, I didn't dare to disobey her. j i So, with the man listening to my ev- , ery word, and Mr. Jeffrey looking as j if he would fall to the ground beforo I could finish, I repeated her words to him and was surprised enough when he suddenly started upright and went flying upstairs. But I was more surprised yet when, at the top of the first fiight, he stopped, and looking over the balustrade, asked in a very strange voice where Miss Tut- j tie Was. For he seemed just £hen to : want her more than anything else in ' the world and looked beaten and i wild when I told him that she was j already gone to Waverley Avenue. But' he recovered himself before the man j could draw near enough to see his j face, and rushed into the sitting- I

room above and shut the door Dehind him, leaving the officer and mo standing down by the front door. As I didn't know what to say to a man like him, and he didn't know what say to me, the time seemed long, 'bub it couldn't have been very many minutes before Mr. Jeffrey came back, with a slip of paper in his hand and 1 a very much relieved look on his; face. 'The deed was premeditated,' he cried. 'My unfortunate wife has misunderstood my affection for her.' And from being a very much brokendown man, he stood up straight and tall and prepared himself very quietly to go to the Moore house. Thai is all I can tell about the way the news was received by him." Were these details necessary? Many appeared to regard them as futile and uncalled for. But Coroner Z, was newr known to waste time on trivialities, and if ho called for these facts, those who knew him best felt certain that they were meant as t preparation for Mr. Jeffrey's testimony, which was now called for.

CHAPTER XII,

When Francis Jeffrey's hand fell from Ills forehead and he turned tc » face the assembled people, an instinctive compassion arose in ever? breast at sight of his face, which, ij not open in its expression, was al least surcharged with the deepest misery. In a flash the scene took on new meamng. Many remembered that less than a month before his eye had been joyous and his figure a conspicuous one among the favored sons of fortune. And now he stood in sight of a crowd, drawn together mainly by curiosity, to explain as best he might why this great happiness and hope had cfc-me to a sudden termination, and his bride of a fortnight had sought death,rather than continue to live under the same rool with him. >

So much for what I saw on thg faces about me. What my own face revealed I can not say. I only knew that I strove to preserve an impassive exterior. If I secretly held this man's misery to be a mask hiding untold passions and the darkness of an unimaginable deed, it was not for me to disclose in this presence either my suspicions or my fears. . To me, as to those about me, he apparently was a man who at some sacrifice to his pride, would yet be able to explain whatever seemed dubious in the mysterious case in which he had become involved.

His wife's uncle, who to all appearance shared the general curiosity as to the effect which this woeful tragedy had had upon his niece's, most interested survivor, eyed with a certain cold interest, eminently in keeping with his general character, the pallid forehead, sunken eyes and nervously trembling lip of the once "handsome Jeffrey" till that gentleman, rousing from his depression, manifested a realization of what was required of him ,and turned with a bow toward the coroner.

Miss Tuttle settled into a greater rigidity. I pass over the preliminary examination of this important witness and proceed at once to the point when the coroner, holding out the two or three lines of writing which Mr. Jeffrey had declared to have been left him by his wife, asked:

"Are these words in your wife's handwriting?" ... ' Mr. Jeffrey replied hastily, and,! with just a glance at the paper, of- ! fered him:

"They are." The coroner pressed the flip upo» him.

"Look at them carefully," he urged. "The handwriting shows hurry and in places is scarcely legible. Are you ready to swear that these words were written by your wife and by no other?"

Mr. Jeffrey, with just a. slight contraction of his brow expressive of annoyance, did as he was bid. He scanned, or appeared to scan, tha small scrap of paper which- he now took into his own hand. "It is my wife's handwriting," h« impatiently declared. "Written, as all can see, under great agitation oi mind, but hers without any doubt." "Will you read aloud these words for our benefit?" asked the coroner. It was a cruel request, causing aa instinctive protest from the spec< tators. But no protest disturbed Coroner Z. He had his reasons, na doubt, for thus trying this witness ( and when Coroner Z. had reason fo* anything it took more than the dis< pleasure of the crowd to deter him. Mr. Jeffrey, who had subdued whatever indignation he may have felt at this unmistakable proof of th<T"coro< ner's intention to have his own way with him whatever the cost to hi* sensitiveness or pride, obeyed the latter's command in firmer tones than I expected. The lines he was thus called upon to read may bear repetition: "I find that I do not love you as I thought. I can not live knowing this to be so. Pray God you'may. forgive me! VERONICA." As the last word fell with a littla tremble from Mr. Jeffrey's lips, the coroner repeated: * ' "You still think these words were addressed to you by your wife; that in short they contain an explanation of her death?" "I do." There was sharpness in the tone*. Mr. Jeffrey was feeling the prick.There was agitation in it, too; an agitation he was trying hard to keep down. i "You have reason, then," ] the coroner, "for accepting this )Q i culiar explanation of your death; a death which, in the ju«jf-; ment of most people, was of a nature to call for the strongest provocation' possible."

(To be Continued.) 1197.