lone from ten to
midnight in that library, waiting for the telephone to ring, hoping
perhaps--for all we know--at the bottom of her heart that it would not
ring. But it did, and she answered."

The picture rose vividly before them all. Harrel, with its lighted
ball-room and joyous dancers on the one side; the silent library on the
other, with Stella herself in all her finery, sitting with her haggard
eyes fixed upon the telephone, whilst the slow minutes passed.

"That's terrible," said Millie Splay in a low voice; and such a wave of
pity swept over the four people that for a long while no further word
was said. Joan upstairs in her room was forgotten. Any thought of
resentment in that Stella had used Sir Chichester's name was overlooked
by the revelation of the long travail of her soul.

"I remember that she once said to me, 'Women do get the worst of it when
they kick over the traces,'" Hillyard resumed. "And undoubtedly they do.
On the other hand you have McKerrel's hard-headed verdict, 'If these
poor neurotic bodies had any work to do they wouldn't have so much time
to worry about their troubles.' Who shall choose between them? And what
does it matter now? Stella's gone. She will strain her poor little
unhappy heart no more against the bars."

CHAPTER XXXI

JENNY AND MILLIE SPLAY

After a time their thoughts reverted to the living.

"There's Joan," said Millie Splay. "Jenny Prask hates her. She means to
drag her into some scandal."

"If she can," said Martin. He went out into the hall and returned with
the key of Stella Croyle's room. He held it up before them all.

"This key was found on the lawn outside the library window this morning
by Luttrell. Jenny has never referred to it since she ran downstairs
this morning crying out that the key was not in the lock. It was lying
on the hall table all through the time when Sir Chichester was
questioning her, and she said never a word about it. She was much too
clever. But she saw it. I was watching her when she did see it. There
was no concealing the swift look of satisfaction which flashed across
her face. I haven't a doubt that she herself dropped the key where it
was found."

"Nor I," Luttrell agreed with a despairing vehemence, "but we can't
prove it. Jenny Prask is going to know nothing of that key. 'No, no, no,
no!' she is going to say, 'Ask Miss Whitworth! Miss Whitworth came back
from Harrel. Miss Whitworth was the last person to see Mrs. Croyl