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Page 13
Mrs. Daniels took one long deep breath and came from the bureau.
Instantly Mr. Gryce stooped and pulled out the drawer she had so
visibly protected. A white towel met our eyes, spread neatly out at
its full length. Lifting it, we looked beneath. A carefully folded
dress of dark blue silk, to all appearance elegantly made, confronted
our rather eager eyes. Beside it, a collar of exquisite lace--I know
enough of such matters to be a judge--pricked through by a gold
breast-pin of a strange and unique pattern. A withered bunch of what
appeared to have been a bouquet of red roses, surmounted the whole,
giving to the otherwise commonplace collection the appearance of a
relic from the tomb.
We both drew back in some amazement, involuntarily glancing up at Mrs.
Daniels.
"I have no explanation to give," said that woman, with a calmness
strangely in contrast to the agitation she had displayed while Mr.
Blake had remained in the room. "That those things rich as they are,
really belonged to the girl, I have no doubt. She brought them when
she came, and they only confirm what I have before intimated: that
she was no ordinary sewing girl, but a woman who had seen better
days."
With a low "humph!" and another glance at the dark blue dress and
delicate collar, Mr. Gryce carefully replaced the cloth he had taken
from them, and softly closed the drawer without either of us having
laid a finger upon a single article. Five minutes later he
disappeared from the room.
I did not see him again till occasion took me below, when I beheld him
softly issue from Mr. Blake's private apartment. Meeting me, he
smiled, and I saw that whether he was conscious of betraying it or
not, he had come upon some clue or at the least fashioned for himself
some theory with which he was more or less satisfied.
"An elegant apartment, that," whispered he, nodding sideways toward
the room he had just left, "pity you haven't time to examine it."
"Are you sure that I haven't?" returned I, drawing a step nearer to
escape the eyes of Mrs. Daniels who had descended after me.
"Quite sure;" and we hastened down together into the yard.
But my curiosity once aroused in this way would not let me rest.
Taking an opportunity when Mr. Gryce was engaged in banter with the
girls below, and in this way learning more in a minute of what he
wanted to know than some men would gather in an hour by that or any
other method, I stole lightly back and entered this room.
I almost started in my surprise. Instead of the luxurious apartment I
had prepared myself to behold, a plain, scantily-furnished room
opened before me, of a nature between a library and a studio. There
was not even a carpet on the polished floor, only a rug, which strange
to say was not placed in the centre of the room or even before the
fireplace, but on one side, and directly in front of a picture that
almost at first blush had attracted my attention as being the only
article in the room worth looking at. It was the portrait of a
woman, handsome, haughty and alluring; a modern beauty, with eyes of
fire burning beneath high piled locks of jetty blackness, that were
only relieved from being too intense by the scarlet hood of an opera
cloak, that was drawn over them. "A sister," I thought to myself, "it
is too modern for his mother," and I took a step nearer to see if I
could trace any likeness in the chiselled features of this disdainful
brunette, to the more characteristic ones of the careless gentleman
who had stood but a few moments before in my presence. As I did so, I
was struck with the distance with which the picture stood out from
the wall, and thought to myself that the awkwardness of the framing
came near marring the beauty of this otherwise lovely work of art. As
for the likeness I was in search of, I found it or thought I did, in
the expression of the eyes which were of the same color as Mr. Blake's
but more full and passionate; and satisfied that I had exhausted all
the picture could tell me, I turned to make what other observations I
could, when I was startled by confronting the agitated countenance of
Mrs. Daniels who had entered behind me.
"This is Mr. Blake's room," said she with dignity; "no one ever
intrudes here but myself, not even the servants."
"I beg pardon," said I, glancing around in vain for the something
which had awakened that look of satisfaction in Mr. Gryce's eyes. "I
was attracted by the beauty of this picture visible through the half
open door and stepped in to favor myself with a nearer view. It is
very lovely. A sister of Mr. Blake?"
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