more than you would have expected such a girl to
have, some loose pennies, and a common handkerchief."

"Well, then, it is proved the girl didn't die of poison, there being
none in the house."

He said this in so convinced a tone she was deceived.

"That is just what I have been telling Mr. Raymond," giving me a
triumphant look.

"Must have been heart disease," he went on, "You say she was well
yesterday?"

"Yes, sir; or seemed so."

"Though not cheerful?"

"I did not say that; she was, sir, very."

"What, ma'am, this girl?" giving me a look. "I don't understand that. I
should think her anxiety about those she had left behind her in the city
would have been enough to keep her from being very cheerful."

"So you would," returned Mrs. Belden; "but it wasn't so. On the
contrary, she never seemed to worry about them at all."

"What! not about Miss Eleanore, who, according to the papers, stands
in so cruel a position before the world? But perhaps she didn't know
anything about that--Miss Leavenworth's position, I mean?"

"Yes, she did, for I told her. I was so astonished I could not keep
it to myself. You see, I had always considered Eleanore as one above
reproach, and it so shocked me to see her name mentioned in the
newspaper in such a connection, that I went to Hannah and read the
article aloud, and watched her face to see how she took it."

"And how did she?"

"I can't say. She looked as if she didn't understand; asked me why I
read such things to her, and told me she didn't want to hear any more;
that I had promised not to trouble her about this murder, and that if I
continued to do so she wouldn't listen."

"Humph! and what else?"

"Nothing else. She put her hand over her ears and frowned in such a
sullen way I left the room."

"That was when?"

"About three weeks ago."

"She has, however, mentioned the subject since?"

"No, sir; not once."

"What! not asked what they were going to do with her mistress?"

"No, sir."

"She has shown, however, that something was preying on her mind--fear,
remorse, or anxiety?"

"No, sir; on the contrary, she has oftener appeared like one secretly
elated."

"But," exclaimed Mr. Gryce, with another sidelong look at me, "that was
very strange and unnatural. I cannot account for it."

"Nor I, sir. I used to try to explain it by thinking her sensibilities
had been blunted, or that she was too ignorant to comprehend the
seriousness of what had happened; but