The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-06-30

ripe for the great event OF the day. the
name Of the lady herself was called.
After so Significant a preamble. the
mere utterance of Miss Tuttle's name
had almost the force Of an accusation;
but the dignity with which she rose
Gained all minds, and subdued every ex-
preston of feeling. I could but marvel
at her self-poise and noble equanimity.
and asked myself II, In the few days
which had passed since first the murmur
Of something more serious than suicide
had gone about, she had schooled her
self for all emergencies that nothing could
| shake her self possession even the
suggestion that a woman Of her beauty
and distinction could be concerned in
| crime. Or had she within herself some
great source of strength, which sustained
her In this most dreadful ordeal? All
were on watch to see. When the veil
dropped from before her features and
she stepped into the full sight of the ex-
pectant crowd, 1t was not the beauty Of
her face, notable and conspicuous as that
was, which reused the hum of surprise
| that swept from one end Of the room to
the other, but the ca.nness almost the
elevation of her manner calmness and
elevation so unlocked for in the light Of
the strange contradictions offered by
| the evidence to which we had
been listening for a day and
a half, that all were affected; many In
clined even to believe her innocent of any
! undue connection with her sisters death
| before she had stretched forth her hand
to take the oath.
! I was no exception to the rest. Tho I
had exerted myself from the first to bring
matters to a climax-but not to this one
experienced such a shock under the
steady gaze Of her sad but gentle eyes,
that found myself recoiling before my
own presumption with some thing like Sc
cret shame till I was relieved by the
| thought that a perfectly innocent woman
would show more feeling at so false and
cruel a position. felt that only one
with something to conceal would turn SO
| calm a front upon men ready, as she
knew, to fix upon her great crime This
| conviction steadied me and made me less
| susceptible to her grace and to the tone
! OF her quiet voice and the far-away sad
ness Of her look. She faltered only when
| by chance she glanced at the shrinking
| figure Of Francis Jeffrey
| Her name which she uttered without
| emphasis and yet in way to arouse at
| tention sank into all hearts with more or
less disturbance.
Alice Cora Tuttle!' How in days gone
by, and not so long gone by, either, these
three words had aroused the enthusiasm Of
| many gallant man and inspired the
| toast at many a gallant feast! They had
| their charm yet, If the heightened color
observable on many a cheek there was
| true index to the quickening heart below.
| How are you connected with the de-
ceased Mrs. Jeffrey?"
! I am the child Of her mother by
| former husband. We were half sisters"
No bitterness in this statement, only
an infinite sadness. The y coroner con-
| tlnued to question her. He asked for an
! account Of her childhood, and forced her
| to lay bare the nature Of her relations
with her sister. But little was gained by
this, for their relations seemed to have
! been Of a sympathetic character UP to the
time of Veronica's return from school,
when they changed somewhat: but how
or why, Miss futile was naturally averse
| to saying. Indeed she almost refused to
| do so, and the coroner, feeling his point
gained more by this refusal than by any
| admission she might have made, did not
press this subject but passed on to what
interested us more: the various unex-
planned actions on her part which pointed
toward crime
His first inquiry was in reference to the
conversation held between her and Mr..
jeffrey at the time he visited her room.
We had listened to his account of it and
now now we wished to hear hers. But
the cue which had been given
her by this very account had
been invaluable to her, and her testi-
mony naturally conceded with his. We
found ourselves not an inch advanced.
Ihey had talked of her sisters follies
ana she had advised patience, and that
was all she could say the subject-au
she would say, as we presently saw.
me coroner introduced fresh topic.
What can you tell us about the inter
view you had with your sister prior to
her going out on the night Of her death?''
very little, except that it differed en-
tirely from what is generally supposed.
she did not come to my room for CONVEX
sat1on but simply to tell me that she had
an engagement. She was in an excited
mood, but said nothing to alarm me. She
even laughed when she left me; perhaps
TO put me off my guard, perhaps because
she was no longer responsible.''
Did she know that Mr.. jeffrey had Wis
tied You earlier in the day? Did she make
any allusion to it, I mean?"
None at all. She shrugged her shoul-
ders when I asked If she was well, and
anticipated all further questions by run
ming from the room. She was always
capricious in her ways and never more so
than at that moment. Would to God that
1t had been different! Would to God
that it she had shown herself to be a
suffering woman! Then I might have
reached her heart and this tragedy would
have been averted.''
The coroner favored the witness with
a look of respect. perhaps because his
next question must necessarily be cruel.
rs that all you have to say concerning
this important visit, the last you held
with your sister before her death?''
| No. sir; there is something else, some
| thing which I should like to relate to this
jury. When she came into my room she
held In her hand a white ribbon; that is
she held the two ends of long satin
! ohOp y Hob