to the door near which I stood. As this
man looked up and saw me still there, a look of relief crossed his face,
and, after a word or two with another stranger of seeming authority,
he detached himself from the group he had ushered upon the scene, and,
approaching me respectfully enough, said with a deprecatory glance at my
uncle whose frown he doubtless understood:

"Miss Van Arsdale, I believe?"

I nodded, too choked to speak.

"I am sorry, Madam, if you were expecting to go. Inspector Dalzell has
arrived and would like to speak to you. Will you step into one of these
rooms? Not the library, but any other. He will come to you as quickly as
he can."

I tried to carry it off bravely and as if I saw nothing in this summons
which was unique or alarming. But I succeeded only in dividing a
wavering glance between him and the group of men of which he had just
formed a part. In the latter were several gentlemen whom I had noted in
Mrs. Fairbrother's train early in the evening and a few strangers,
two of whom were officials. Mr. Durand was with the former, and his
expression did not encourage me.

"The affair is very serious," commented the detective on leaving me.
"That's our excuse for any trouble we may be putting you to." I clutched
my uncle's arm.

"Where shall we go?" I asked. "The drawing-room is too large. In this
hall my eyes are for ever traveling in the direction of the alcove.
Don't you know some little room? Oh, what, what can he want of me?"

"Nothing serious, nothing important," blustered my good uncle. "Some
triviality such as you can answer in a moment. A little room? Yes, I
know one, there, under the stairs. Come, I will find the door for you.
Why did we ever come to this wretched ball?"

I had no answer for this. Why, indeed!

My uncle, who is a very patient man, guided me to the place he had
picked out, without adding a word to the ejaculation in which he had
just allowed his impatience to expend itself. But once seated within,
and out of the range of peering eyes and listening ears, he allowed a
sigh to escape him which expressed the fullness of his agitation.

"My dear," he began, and stopped. "I feel--" here he again came to a
pause--"that you should know--"

"What?" I managed to ask.

"That I do not like Mr. Durand and--that others do not like him."

"Is it because of something you knew about him before to-night?"

He made no answer.

"Or because he was seen, like many other gentleme