The sun., 1900-11-22
CHAPTER III.
A MENTAL WRECK.

they were astonshed to come upon
Miss Page standing in the doorway.
She was gazing at the recumbent figure
of the dead woman, and for a moment
seemed unconscious of their presence.
How did you get in? Which OF my
men were weak enough to let you pass
against my express instructions"
asked the constable, who was of an
irritable and suspicious nature.
She let the hood drop from her head
and, turning. surveyed him with slow
smile. There was witchery in that
smile sufficient to affect a much more
cultivated and callous nature than his.
and though he had been proof against
it once he could not quite resist the
effect of its repetition.
II insisted upon entering" said she.
"Do not blame the men. They did not
want to use force against a woman"
She had not n good voice and she knew
1t, but she covered up this defect by
choice of intonations that carried her
lightest speech to the heart. Hard
visaged Amos Fenton gave a grunt,
which was as near an expression Of
approval as he ever gave to any one.
"Wcll, wellv' he growled, but not i'll
naturedly. Its morbid curiosity
that brings you here Better drop it,
girl 1t won't do you any good in the
eyes of sensible people"
"Thank you" was her demure reply,
her lips dimpling at the corners in a
way to shock the sensitive Mr.. Suther-
| land.
| Glancing from her to the still out
lines Of the noble figure on the couch,
he remarked with an air of mild re-
proof:
II do not understand you. Miss Page.
| If this solemn sight has no power to
| stop your coquetIies nothing can. AS
for your curiosity it is both i'll timed
and unwomanly. Let me see you leave
this house at once. Miss Page, and IL
in the few hours which must elapse
before breakfast you can find time to
pack your trunks, you will still further
oblige me-"
"Oh, don't send me away, entreat
you"
1t was cry from her inner heart,
which she probably regretted, for she
instantly sought to cover up the anxi-
ETY. it showed by submissive bend of
the head and step backward. Neither
Mr.. Fenton nor Mr.. Sutherland seemed
to hear the one or see the other, their
attention having returned tc the more
serious matter in hand.
"The dress which our poor friend
wears shows her to have been struck
before retiring" commented Mr.. Suth-
erland, after another short survey of
Mrs. Webb's figure. IF Philemon
Excuse me, sir" interrupted voice,
"but the young woman is listening to
what you say. She is still in the hall"
1t was the young man speaking, who
had been left in the hall.
"She Is. is sher' exclaimed Fenton
sharply. his admiration for the fascin.
ating stranger having oozcd out at his
rompaniOn's rebuff, Il will soon show
her But the words melted into thin
air rs he reached the door. The young
girl had disappeared. and only faint
perfume remained in the place where
she had stood.
"A most extraordinary person.
grumblcd the constable, turning back
but stopping again as Il faint murmuI
came up from below.
"The gentleman is waking" called
up voice whose lack OF music was
: quite perceptible at q distance.
: With bound Mr.. Fenton descended
the stairs, followed by Mr.. Sutherland
: Miss Page stood before the door OF
the room In which sat Philemon Webb
AS they reached her side she made G
little bow that was half mocking, haii
, deprecatory, and slipped from tbs
: house. An almost unbearable sensa
ton of incongruity vanished with her
I and Mr.. Sutherland, for one, breathet
like man relieved.
II wish the doctor would come,
:. Fenton said, as they watched the SLOW
lifting of Philemon Webb's head. "Ou
fastest rider has gone for him, but he'
: out Porchester way, and it may be al
hour yet before he can get here"
, "Philemonw
Mr.. Sutherland had advanced ant
was standing by his old friends side.
"PhiIemon, what has become of you
guests? You've waited for them her
, till morning"
The old man with dazed look sun
veyed the two plates set ON either SID
OF him and shook his head.
: flames ami John are getting proud,
said he, ''or they forget, they forget"
James and John. He must mean I'd
Fables, yet there We're many other
answering to these names in town. M
Sutherland made another effort.
l. philemon, where is your wifeE
not see any place set here for herr
"Agathas sick, Agatha's cross; 81
don't care for poor old man like me-"
"Agatha's dead and you know 1t
Numbered back the constable with IL
judged severity. "Who killed her? Te
me that. Who killed herr"
A sudden quenching of the last spai
of intelligence in the old mans el
!, was the Dire ldful effect of these word
Ut Laughing With that strange gurg
ny which pro@aims an utterly irresponS
r. BILE mind. fe cried:
gn "The pussy cat! 1t was the pus'
W | cnt Whots killed? I'm NOT kille