here in the shadows, the expression of
her face veiled, but there seemed no response, no softening in the
rigid attitude of her figure. She did not care; was only interested in
his immediate departure. The change had occurred with such abruptness,
West was unable as yet to realize its full significance, but, with no
attempt to combat her decision, left the room, closing the door behind
him. In that moment his mood changed. The dismissal had been so curt,
his pride rose in rebellion. Finding Sexton in the front hall, he
addressed him crisply.

"My bag will be ready in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir; you are going away, sir?"

"Immediately. A call to return to the city at once."

"I am very sorry, sir," he said respectfully, yet in a tone of such
earnestness, as to cause West to glance toward him sharply. For an
instant it was upon the lips of the younger man to ask a question, but
Sexton turned away, and it remained unasked. Promptly at the time
mentioned came the servant's soft rap on the door.

"I came for the bag, sir."

West handed it over with a glance at the rather expressionless face.

"You said you regretted to see me leave, Sexton," he remarked jovially.
"I presume you meant nothing in particular by that remark?"

"Oh, no, sir," standing motionless, bag in hand. "Only you have been very
kind, sir, and--and--of course, it is none of my business, but I hope
there is no quarrel, sir?"

"Quarrel! With Miss Natalie, you mean? Why should you suspect that?"

"I--I spoke, sir, very thoughtlessly, sir," he stammered. "You will
pardon me, sir."

"Yes, but you must have had a reason, Sexton?"

"Only that she has seemed very much out of humour, sir, since her trip to
town," he explained rather lamely. "I have never known her to be so hard
to please, sir. I'm sure something is wrong, but that is no reason why I
should say what I did, sir."

CHAPTER X

THE BODY OF A SUICIDE

As the car whirled West down the circling driveway, the only sign of
life visible about the house was the motionless figure of Sexton on the
steps. If either Miss Natalie, or Percival Coolidge, took interest enough
in the proceedings to witness his departure, they chose to remain
carefully concealed within. His glance searched the front of the mansion
vainly; no window revealed an occupant. From behind where the guests were
at play, sounded a distant murmur of voices, and laughter, but the house
itself expressed only calm indifference