she is the person I think her, she is amenable to law, and the police will have to be notified of her whereabouts.”
“She has stolen, then?”
“Her fault is a very grave one,” I returned.
Miss Althorpe, deeply troubled, looked about her as if for guidance. I, who could have given it to her, made no movement to attract her attention to myself, but waited calmly for her own decision in this matter.
“I wish you would let me consult Mr. Stone,” she ventured at last. “I think his judgment might help us.”
“I had rather take no one into our confidence,—especially no man. He would consider your welfare only and not hers.”
I did not consider myself obliged to acknowledge that the work upon which I was engaged could not be shared by one of the male sex without lessening my triumph over Mr. Gryce.
“Mr. Stone is very just,” she remarked, “but he might be biased in a matter of this kind. What way do you see out of the difficulty?”
“Only this. To settle at once and unmistakably, whether she is the person who carried certain articles from the house of a friend of mine. If she is, there will be some evidence of the fact visible in her room or on her person. She has not been out, I believe?”
“Not since she came into the house.”
“And has remained for the most part in her own apartment?”
“Always, except when I have summoned her to my assistance.”
“Then what I want to know I can learn there. But how can I make my investigations without offence?”
“What do you want to know, Miss Butterworth?”
“Whether she has in her keeping some half dozen rings of considerable value.”
“Oh! she could conceal rings so easily.”
“She does conceal them; I have no more doubt of it than I have of my standing here; but I must know it before I shall feel ready to call the attention of the police to her.”
“Yes, we should both know it. Poor girl! poor girl! to be suspected of a crime! How great must have been her temptation!”
“I can manage this matter, Miss Althorpe, if you will entrust it to me.”
“How, Miss Butterworth?”
“The girl is ill; let me take care of her.”
“Really ill?”
“Yes, or will be so before morning. There is fever in her veins; she has worried herself ill. Oh, I will be good to her.”
This in answer to a doubtful look from Miss Althorpe.
“This is a difficult problem you have set me,” that lady remarked after a moment’s thought. “But anything seems better than sending her away, or sending for the police. But do you suppose she will allow you in her room?”
“I think so; if her fever increases she will not notice much that goes on about her, and I think it will increase; I have seen enough of sickness to be something of a judge.”
“And you will search her while she is unconscious?”
“Don’t look so horrified, Miss Althorpe. I have promised you I will not worry her. She may need assistance in getting to bed. While I am giving it to her I can judge if there is anything concealed upon her person.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“At all events, we shall know more than we do now. Shall I venture, Miss Althorpe?”
“I cannot say no,” was the hesitating answer; “you seem so very much in earnest.”
“And I am in earnest. I have reasons for being; consideration for you is one of them.”
“I do not doubt it. And now will you come down to supper, Miss Butterworth?”
“No,” I replied. “My duty is here. Only send word to Lena that she is to drive home and take care of my house in my absence. I shall want nothing, so do not worry about me. Join your lover now, dear; and do not bestow another thought upon this self-styled Miss Oliver or what I am about to do in her room.”
Chapter XXIV.
A House of Cards
I did not return immediately to my patient. I waited till her supper came up. Then I took the tray, and assured by the face of the girl who brought it that Miss Althorpe had explained my presence in her house sufficiently for me to feel at my ease before her servants, I carried in the dainty repast she had provided and set it down on the table.
The poor woman was standing where we had left her; but her whole figure showed languor, and she more than leaned against the bedpost behind her. As I looked up from the tray and met her eyes, she shuddered and seemed to be endeavoring to understand who I was and what I was doing in her room. My premonitions in regard to her were well based. She was in a raging fever, and was already more than half oblivious to her surroundings.
Approaching her, I spoke as gently as I could, for her hapless condition appealed to me in spite of my well founded prejudices against her; and seeing she was growing incapable of response, I drew her up on the bed and began to undress her.
I half expected her to recoil at this, or at least to make some show of alarm, but she submitted to my ministrations almost gratefully, and neither shrank nor questioned me till I laid my hands upon her shoes. Then indeed she quivered, and drew her feet away with such an appearance of terror that I was forced to desist from my efforts or drive her into violent delirium.
This satisfied me that Louise Van Burnam lay before me. The scar concerning which so much had been said in the papers would be ever present in the thoughts of this woman as the tell-tale mark by which she might be known, and though at this moment she was on the borders of unconsciousness, the instinct of self-preservation still remained in sufficient force to prompt her to make this effort to protect herself from discovery.
I had told Miss Althorpe that my chief reason for intruding upon Miss Oliver, was to determine if she had in her possession certain rings supposed to have been taken from a friend of mine; and while this was in a measure true—the rings being an important factor in the proof I was accumulating against her,—I was not so anxious to search for them at this time as to find the scar which would settle at once the question of her identity.
When she drew her foot away from me then, so violently, I saw that I needed to search no farther for the evidence required, and could give myself up to making her comfortable. So I bathed her temples, now throbbing with heat, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing her fall into a deep and uneasy slumber. Then I tried again to draw off her shoes, but the start she gave and the smothered cry which escaped her warned me that I must wait yet longer before satisfying my curiosity; so I desisted at once, and out of pure compassion left her to get what good she might from the lethargy into which she had fallen.
Being hungry, or at least feeling the necessity of some slight aliment to help me sustain the fatigues of the night, I sat down now at the table and partook of some of the dainties with which Miss Althorpe had kindly provided me. After which I made out a list of such articles as were necessary to my proper care of the patient who had so strangely fallen into my hands, and then, feeling that I had a right at last to indulge in pure curiosity, I turned my attention to the clothing I had taken from the self-styled Miss Oliver.
The dress was a simple gray one, and the skirts and underclothing all white. But the latter was of the finest texture, and convinced me, before I had given them more than a glance, that they were the property of Howard Van Burnam’s wife. For, besides the exquisite quality of the material, there were