rprised before at the all but spoken intelligence
which passed between the two servants, Elsa and Louis, I was more amazed
now. They shot rapid glances at each other, which were evidently full
of meaning to themselves. Elsa was deathly white, her lips trembled, and
she looked at the Frenchman as if in terror of her life. But though he
glanced at her meaningly, now and then, Louis's anxiety seemed to me to
be more for Florence Lloyd than for her maid.

But now the coroner was talking very gravely to Miss Lloyd.

"Do you corroborate," he was saying, "the statements of your maid about
the flowers that were sent you last evening?"

"I do," she replied.

"From whom did they come?"

"From Mr. Hall."

"Mr. Hall," said, the coroner, turning toward the young man, "how could
you send flowers to Miss Lloyd last evening if you were in New York
City?"

"Easily," was the cool reply. "I left Sedgwick on the six o'clock train.
On my way to the station I stopped at a florist's and ordered some roses
sent to Miss Lloyd. If they did not arrive until she was at dinner, they
were not sent immediately, as the florist promised."

"When did you receive them, Miss Lloyd?"

"They were in my room when I event up there at about ten o'clock last
evening," she replied, and her face showed her wonderment at these
explicit questions.

The coroner's face showed almost as much wonderment, and I said:
"Perhaps, Mr. Monroe, I may ask a few questions right here."

"Certainly," he replied.

And thus it was, for the first time in my life, I directly addressed
Florence Lloyd.

"When you went up to your room at ten o'clock, the flowers were there?"
I asked, and I felt a most uncomfortable pounding at my heart because of
the trap I was deliberately laying for her. But it had to be done, and
even as I spoke, I experienced a glad realization, that if she were
innocent, my questions could do her no harm.

"Yes," she repeated, and for the first time favored me with a look of
interest. I doubt if she knew my name or scarcely knew why I was there.

"And you pinned one on your gown?"

"I tucked it in among the laces at my throat, yes."

"Miss Lloyd, do you still persist in saying you did not go down-stairs
again, to your uncle's office?"

"I did not," she repeated, but she turned white, and her voice was
scarce more than a whisper.

"Then," said I, "how did two petals of a yellow rose happen to be on the
floor in the office this morning?"