# Whitewash/Chapter 5
### CHAPTER V.

TEN days passed eventless to Victoria until the morning of the eleventh, which was marked by a letter from Sonia. In this, her friend wrote affectionately of everything and of every one in their old circle, and concluded with a request for information concerning the Auray robbery, she having been notified to hold herself in readiness to identify the criminal if caught. The long and rambling epistle closed with a bit of information that set Victoria thinking.
"The strange thing is," wrote Sonia, "that our inky countess has disappeared, so the official, a very chatty and sociable individual, informed me. She suspected the maid—you remember her—of being in collusion with the thief. Unfortunately, this did not dawn on her till the said Abigail had departed for parts unknown, which she did shortly after the burial of the child. The ​police have been searching for them both, and are inclined to think that the tragedy unsettled the poor lady's reason. However, she went supplied with a replica photograph of Valdeck from the rogues gallery here, and plenty of money. She took no one into her confidence, as far as my informant knows. Strange, isn't it? I can vividly imagine that gaunt, black, half-crazed woman travelling aimlessly over the world in search of the man who killed her daughter, and the woman who aided him. A sensational story from first to last! And now, it seems, from your far-off land a new chapter is to be sent out. I must own I'm interested. Be sure to write me all the news, and don't be surprised if at any moment the steamer lands on the shores of freedom your old friend and companion, Sonia Palintzka."
Victoria re-read the letter, stuck it on her file, and leaned back, running her hands through her heavy hair. "So, the maid had at last been suspected!" She remembered with vivid clearness the scene in the dying child's presence, when the woman hysterically gave in evidence a descrip​tion exactly contrary to that of the pretended Englishman. She recalled in particular the words referring to the hands, "hairy, rough, and callous, like those of a working man." Valdeck's hands were long, slim, and gentlemanly. At the time she had put this discrepancy down to fright, to the possibility of a second marauder. It now appeared to her as a wilful desire to mislead, to throw the pursuers off the scent. Jumping to her feet, Victoria began the regular pacing of the room that with her betokened perturbation of spirit. After all, the black countess's quest might be in the right direction. Suddenly she stopped short.
"I'm sure of it! I'm sure of it!" she exclaimed, aloud, to the empty room. "That woman chloroformed herself when she heard the noise outside in the hall. I remember the cloth over the gag was loosely tied and very damp. The gag was a mere blind that doubtless Valdeck put on, the more readily to exonerate her! I'm sure of it! I have a feeling it is so." Then she mused more quietly. "How this thing has been resurrected! Its influence is stretching over my ​life again, and I thought I had left it far behind in little, old-world Brittany. Here it comes up in modern, commonplace New York. So the maid was in it with him? I wonder I didn't think of it before. If ever the black countess does catch up with them—"
The rattle of a latch-key interrupted her, and a moment later Mrs. Durham entered, shut the door behind her, and stood regarding her friend with a face at once serious and questioning.
"Look here," Victoria began, "I've just had a letter—"
Mrs. Durham threw herself into her pet leather chair and raised her veil. The movement was instinct with gravity. Victoria stopped short in her sentence and looked curiously at her.
"What is it?" she demanded. "Has Delmonico's burned up, or have the hansom-cabbies gone out on strike?"
"You won't laugh when I tell you," Mrs. Durham burst out. "I'm sure I don't know how to tell you, or where to begin—but begin I must. Victoria, I have heard the most awful stories that are being circulated about you!"
​"About me?" Victoria shrugged her shoulders. "People must talk about some one. I haven't been home long, so naturally they take it out on me—I'm new. What do they say? that I drink absinthe by the quart, or dance the latest Parisian danse eccentrique on the studio roof? I'm prepared for anything."
"Indeed you are not! Heavens! do you suppose I'd care for any such trifle as that? A slander of that sort is only a bored and unoccupied society's way of paying a compliment, and I tell you— Well, I might as well blurt it out. They are saying you were mixed up in an abominably disgraceful love-affair in Paris!"
Victoria sprang to her feet and stood bristling and defiant. "Who says such a thing?" she demanded.
"And," continued Mrs. Durham, hotly, ignoring the question, "I am told that out of revenge and jealousy you have endeavored to ruin the man's character by bringing terrible and unfounded accusations against him!"
"You're crazy!" Victoria interposed.
"Nothing of the sort."
​"Nobody would circulate such nonsense."
"Well, they have."
"Who are they?"
"Three people to-day."
"Do they mention any one, or is this all in the air?"
"No, they give names."
"Who?"
"Whom do you suppose?—Valdeck!"
"Valdeck?"
"Valdeck."
"There's only one person who would—"
"Of course—"
"Philippa!"
"Naturally."
"What does it all mean?"
"It's beyond me!
"I recognized your friend's fine Italian hand at once, but you can't prove it easily. Suppose she denies saying anything?"
"But why should she do this?" exclaimed Victoria, utterly at sea.
"She is infatuated with him."
​"What of it? That's no reason for saying I ever knew him in Paris."
Mrs. Durham settled herself and compressed her lips. "Don't you see? She wants to nullify your story if it should get out. Well, I gave the ladies who 'thought I ought to know' a piece of my unvarnished mind for crediting such a thing—or listening to it, for that matter—but not till I had pumped them sufficiently to trace the information in the direction of your charming friend. Now, Victoria, dear, we must hunt this thing down; bring every one face to face with his neighbor who handed on the gossip. And when we have sifted everything down, we will take action."
"But," cried Victoria, bewildered for once, "I don't see any reason—there's no motive. People don't murder without a motive; why, then, should they kill a person's character without one?"
"I don't know," Mrs. Durham replied. "But I tell you, my dear, we will find out."
Victoria seized the poker and played havoc ​with the fire for a few moments; then she rose from her crouching position with a spring.
"I'm going to interview Philippa this very afternoon. Will you come with me?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Durham. "You must head this gossip off at once. You have only your unsupported word at present, but proof can be readily forthcoming, and Philippa will have to give the source of her information. If you must have a slander suit, you can get healthy damages."
"What I want," Victoria broke in, viciously, "is the privilege of branding the person who started that rumor with the red-hottest iron in the city. Damages won't give me any such physical satisfaction!"
"You're too primeval, my dear," her friend commented. " But I must confess that perhaps the whipping-post— However, first catch your scoundrel before you prepare the boiling oil."
Victoria smiled gloatingly. Suddenly she darkened. "Do you know, I believe that Philippa has been persuading—but no, he wouldn't believe such things of me, even if we have diverged."
"Who?"
​"Morton. He hasn't been near me for over a week."
"Well, Philippa knows him, doesn't she?"
"Yes. But he wouldn't believe such stuff if he heard it. And even if he did, it would make no difference as far as he is concerned. He would say I had a right to do as I pleased."
"Oh, with a woman in the case you can't tell," Mrs. Durham wisely suggested. "How well does he know Miss Ford?"
"I'm sure I don't know—I've been away so long. But"—and memory brought up a sudden picture of his face—"he was rather put out when I dissected her character for his benefit the last time I saw him. However, we'll clear it up. Put on your things and come."
She snatched her hat airily and harpooned it with a hat-pin, while Mrs. Durham proceeded to a more careful and leisurely toilet.
"I'm glad we're going to have it out while I'm still hot and have it all fresh in my mind," Mrs. Durham remarked, as they emerged from the building into the raw air of the outside world. ​But Victoria spoke not at all during their hasty journey to the old Verplank mansion.
As they turned the corner they caught a glimpse of Morton just disappearing between the storm doors. Victoria was somewhat taken aback, but Mrs. Durham laughed.
"All the better, before two witnesses. Now for it."
They alighted, paid the cabby, and mounted the steps slowly. Victoria's heart beat hard, for she heartily hated a scene, while her friend as heartily rejoiced as she saw a fresh incident for her new novel rapidly developing in real life. They were admitted by the butler, who held aside the green curtains of the reception-room into which they passed single file.
Morton and Philippa rose from the divan somewhat hastily, and Philippa held out her hand with languid grace and a murmur of "So glad," which froze on her lips as Victoria deliberately thrust both hands in her muff, and Mrs. Durham's clear, light eyes gimleted into her hostess's violet orbs. She opened the battle without parley.
"Miss Ford, I have come with Miss Claudel, ​as a married woman and her close friend, to demand of you the meaning of certain lies I have heard coming unmistakably from you, which concern the private character of Miss Claudel."
Philippa's jaw dropped. In spite of her great self-control, she could not prevent an anxious glance in the direction of her lover. In a flash she realized that she had overreached herself. That in her anxiety to help and shield Valdeck, she had exposed her own precious person.
Victoria, having the most at stake, was the most nervous of all, and her pallor was misinterpreted by Philippa, who, to do her justice, had not the slightest doubt of the truth of Valdeck's statement. She pulled herself together haughtily, ignoring Mrs. Durham's speech.
"I notice," she said, icily, "that Miss Claudel has very little to say for herself in this matter. Doubtless you have dragged her into the interview against her wishes. But as Miss Claudel has been one of my friends, for her sake I will let what you say pass."
Victoria recovered her power of speech. "What on earth are you saying, Philippa? I ​don't understand you. You seem to think I have something to hide!"
"Really!"
Victoria's face hardened. "We have come to ask you from whom you obtained this pretended information, as we have traced most of the current gossip to you."
Morton had held his breath for some moments. This being in the presence of a three-cornered woman's conflict daunted him, as it well might any man, however stout-hearted, particularly when one of the contestants happens to be a fiancée, and another a lifelong friend. His loyalty to Victoria flamed up with the hope that she might clear herself of the accusations brought against her. For an instant he almost hoped she would avenge the hurt. Then the loveliness of Philippa triumphed, and he felt only the sting of the insult offered her. Her voice came to him cold and distinct.
"I have heard this story from more than one reliable source; but as the information was confidential. I am not at liberty to give names."
​"Then," broke in Mrs. Durham, "Miss Claudel's suit for slander will be brought against you."
"Suit for slander!" Philippa murmured, aghast.
"Suit for slander!" Morton exclaimed, in anger.
"Suit for slander, Miss Ford," repeated Mrs. Durham, coolly. "What else do you expect? You could have foreseen that from the beginning. Such infamous lies are not put into circulation without—"
"Lies!" hotly interrupted Morton, to whom Philippa gladly ceded the floor. "Lies! Let me tell you—no, Philippa, permit me to handle this case for you; it is my right. Ladies, Miss Ford is engaged to me, and—"
He stopped short at sight of the blank sorrow and surprise on Victoria's face.
Forgetting all but her old affection for Morton; forgetting the object of her visit and Philippa's presence, she advanced to him with a sudden gesture as if to shield him from a blow.
"Oh, Morton! No! no! You can't mean it!"
​The words were wrung from her by sudden emotion. There was no doubting their sincerity.
Mrs. Durham was silent with surprise; but Philippa was eloquent with mortally wounded pride.
"You dare speak so! to my very face!" she cried, crimson with passion. "You—a notorious woman—yes, notorious! a woman who loses her character wilfully, and then attempts to blacken a man's reputation with the meanest, most despicable lies!" She choked with anger.
Mrs. Durham turned on her fiercely. "So you make this statement as a matter of personal knowledge, do you? Mr. Conway, you heard what Miss Ford has just said—not even referring to any informant, but making a statement pure and simple."
Philippa exploded again.
"And you!—you! Leave this house at once!"
Morton restrained her.
"Philippa, dear, don't! You forget yourself. Mrs. Durham, I hardly think Miss Ford can continue this painful interview."
"I won't be quiet! I won't be silenced! I ​will speak out! How dare you," she cried to Victoria, for hysteria had its grip on her, "you, who haven't a shred of decency!"
Mrs. Durham turned white, and her voice had the edge of a frosted knife as it cut to the quick.
"So, Miss Ford, no shred of decency! And what do you say of a young woman who dines in a private room with a foreigner whom she scarcely knows, when it seems she is engaged to another man—dines in a private room in the most disreputable restaurant in the city! Yes, I mean you, Miss Ford!"
There was a moment of awful suspense. Philippa, taken completely off her guard, saw her world crumbling about her. Her face twitched pitifully for an instant, and her knees bent. She sank on the divan with a strange, broken awkwardness.
Victoria, no less astonished, looked at Mrs. Durham blankly. But that lady stood her ground with the calm relentlessness of an executioner.
Morton's voice was hoarse and trembling as he turned on her.
"You shall answer to me for this."
​"I shall be delighted," she replied. "My proofs, unlike Miss Ford's, will be readily forthcoming. When would you like to see them?"
Philippa sprang to her feet.
"Morton, if you love me, don't give them the satisfaction of listening. You know it isn't true. Can't you see that they are trying to draw your attention from Victoria by making this attack on me?"
Mrs. Durham persisted, coldly. "Miss Ford, will you mention your informant in the matter of these accusations against Miss Claudel?"
Philippa was infuriated.
"I will not! I will not!" she insisted, and then, with a high scream of laughter, she burst into tears.
No one had heard the bell, or the opening of the door, and not until Valdeck was actually ushered into the room, did any one realize the presence of an outsider.
He took in the situation, and paled.
"Excuse me—I—intrude."
He was about to withdraw, when Victoria barred his way.
​"No," she cried, "you come most opportunely. You may clear up matters. Miss Ford, or some one else, has accused me of Heaven knows what kind of a love-affair in Paris—and with you! Do you dare to make such a statement?"
"I understand," Valdeck answered, after a moment's hesitation, "that you have made the statement that I was wanted for—Heaven knows what crime in France. I have to thank you. I think, for an investigation of my effects recently made, and the espionage of the police—the stories balance each other."
Victoria's jaw fell. "Do you mean—"
"One story is as true as the other," he answered, lightly.
"What I said was true!" she broke in, hotly. "I will swear to it!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Then you cannot expect me to deny. But I fear it will require more than your testimony, Miss Claudel—"
A sudden cessation of Philippa's tears, and a quick exclamation from Morton broke in on them.
"She's dying!—quick, quick—water—a doctor!" Then turning savagely on Victoria and ​Mrs. Durham, Morton raged, "You've killed her—you've killed her!"
Mrs. Durham shrugged her shoulders. "Fainting is an easy way of avoiding an awkward situation," she observed, sententiously.
"I will go for a doctor," volunteered Valdeck.
"You stay and see it out!" Victoria commanded.
But Valdeck was already in the hall and hurrying down the steps to his hansom.
"Go!" commanded Morton, fiercely, "go! You have killed her!"
"John," said Mrs. Durham to the butler, as she passed out, "go fetch a maid to attend Miss Ford."