Juliet having heard the ring at the front door, escaped from the room to see her lover. She met him divesting himself of his overcoat in the hall, and ran to him with outstretched hands. "But why have you got on an overcoat this warm day?" she asked.
"I have a cold. I caught one last night," said Cuthbert, kissing her.
"Where were you last night?" asked Juliet, drawing him into a side room. "I thought you were coming to the Marlow Theatre with Basil and me."
"Yes. But my uncle arrived unexpectedly in England and sent for me to his hotel in Guelph street – the Avon Hotel, you know. He will insist on a fire even in June, and the room was so hot that I caught cold when I came out. I had to go down to Rexton to-day on his business, and put on a coat so as to avoid catching further cold. But why this room, Juliet?"
"Father and Basil are in the drawing-room. They are talking of the murder, and I don't want to hear any more about it."
"There are pleasanter things to talk about," said Mallow. "I knew Basil would come crammed with news. Has he told you – "
"He told us everything he could gather from the detective. It seems that the crime is quite a mystery."
"Quite. Why your aunt should be killed, or how the assassin escaped, after killing her, cannot be discovered. Jennings is in high glee about it. He loves a puzzle of this sort."
"Do you know him?" asked Juliet anxiously.
"Oh, yes. Jennings is a gentleman. He was at Eton with me. But he ran through his money and took up the detective business. He is very clever, and if anyone will learn the truth, he will. Now, my theory – "
Juliet put her hand over his mouth. "Don't," she said. "I have had enough horrors for this afternoon. Let us talk of ourselves."
"I would rather do this," said Mallow, and kissed her.
Mallow was a handsome fellow, tall and slim, with a rather military carriage. His face was clean-shaven save for a small straw-colored moustache, which showed up almost white against the bronze of his face. He was more of an athlete than a student, and this was one reason why Juliet was fond of him. She had seen so much of literary circles that she always vowed she would marry a man who never opened a book. Cuthbert nearly fulfilled this requirement, as he read little, save novels and newspapers. He was well known in sporting circles, and having a good private income, owned race-horses. He was always irreproachably dressed, good-humored and cheerful. Consequently he was popular, and if not overburdened with brains, managed to make himself agreeable to the world, and to have what the Americans call "a good time." He had travelled much and was fond of big-game shooting. To complete his characterization, it is necessary to mention that he had served in the Boer War, and had gained a D.S.O. But that was in the days before he met Juliet or he might not have risked a life so precious to her.
Juliet was dark and rather little, not at all like her Junoesque mother. She was extremely pretty and dressed to perfection. Having more brains and a stronger will than Mallow, she guided him in every way, and had already succeeded in improving his morals. With so gentle and charming a mentor, Cuthbert was quite willing to be led into the paths of virtue. He adored Juliet and she loved him, so it appeared that the marriage would be quite ideal.
"Much as we love one another," said Cuthbert when the lovers were seated on the sofa. "I wonder you can talk of anything but this horrid murder."
"Because there is nothing to talk of," rejoined the girl impatiently; "according to Basil, the case is most mysterious, so it is useless for us to worry over it until something tangible is discovered. But I want to speak to you seriously – " here Juliet hesitated.
"Well, go on," said Cuthbert, taking her hand.
"Mother says – " began Juliet, then hesitated again. "Promise me you will keep to yourself what I am about to tell you."
"Certainly. I never was a fellow to chatter."
"Then mother says that this murder will put a stop to our marriage."
Mallow stared, then flushed up to his ears. "What on earth does she mean by that?" he asked aghast.
Juliet looked searchingly at him. "Do you know of any impediment?"
"I? Of course I don't. I am sorry for the death of your aunt, but I really don't see what it has to do with you and me."
Juliet drew a breath of relief. "Mother hints that she knows who committed the crime, and – "
"What! She knows. How does she know?"
"I can't say. She refuses to speak. She was not on good terms with Aunt Selina and they never saw one another for over fifteen years. But mother is much disturbed about the murder – "
"That is natural. A sister is a sister however much one may have quarrelled. But why should this death stop our marriage?"
"I know no more than you do. Here is mother. Ask her yourself."
It was indeed Mrs. Octagon who entered the room. She looked very pale, but otherwise was perfectly composed. In silence she gave her hand to Cuthbert, and kept her black eyes fixed steadily on his face. The young man flushed and turned away, whereat Mrs. Octagon sighed. Juliet broke an embarrassed silence.
"Mother," she said, "I have told Cuthbert what you said."
"Then you had no right to," said Mrs. Octagon sternly.
"Oh, I think she had," said Mallow, rather annoyed. "Seeing you hint that this crime will stop our marriage."
Mrs. Octagon did not answer. "Is your uncle in town?" she asked.
"Yes. He arrived from the continent a day or two ago."
"I thought so," she said, half to herself, and strove to repress her agitation. "Mr. Mallow, my daughter can't marry you."
"Why not? Give your reason."
"I have no reason to give."
"But you must. Is it on account of this murder?"
"It is. I told Juliet so. But I cannot explain."
The lovers looked at one another in a dazed fashion. The woman's objection seemed to be senseless. "Surely you don't think Cuthbert killed Aunt Selina?" said Juliet, laughing in a forced manner.
"No. I don't suspect him."
"Then whom do you suspect?" demanded Mallow.
"That I decline to say."
"Will you decline to say it to the police?"
Mrs. Octagon stepped back a pace. "Yes, I should," she faltered.
Cuthbert Mallow looked at her, wondering why she was so agitated, and Juliet stole her hand into his. Then he addressed her seriously.
"Mrs. Octagon," he said, "your remark about my uncle leads me to think you suspect him."
"No I don't. But you can't marry Juliet on account of this crime."
"Then you hear me," said Mallow, driven into a corner, "from this moment I devote myself to finding out who killed your unfortunate sister. When the assassin is discovered you may consent to our marriage."
But
