“Three minutes,” he said. “A lot can happen in three minutes, my girl.”

He left at nine o’clock, driving away with his uniformed chauffeur. The men who had been scattered over the grounds had disappeared, but one officer was on duty on Huston Street beside the break in the fence. Another was holding back the crowd at the gate, and two still remained in the house. Hilda watched the difficulty with which the car made its way through the crowd.

“It’s disgusting,” she said to the tall young policeman on duty in the lower hall. “They ought to be ashamed.”

He smiled indulgently.

“They like a bit of excitement, miss.” He smiled. “There’s a lot of reporters out there, too. I caught one carrying in the milk bottles early this morning.”

As she went up the stairs she could still hear Carlton at the library phone.

“Hello, George. I’m trying to locate Marian. She’s out of town somewhere. I suppose you and Nell haven’t heard from her?”

Chapter 15

She was very tired. When she looked into Eileen’s room Ida was running a carpet sweeper over the floor. Eileen’s hair had been combed and fresh linen put on her bed. She looked better, although she was still pale.

“If you’re all right I’ll go to bed for an hour or two, Mrs. Garrison,” Hilda said. “I haven’t had much sleep lately.”

“I’m perfectly all right. I told that fool of a policeman, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Hilda went back toward her room. But she did not go to bed. Maggie was carrying a tray into Jan’s room, and she followed her. Jan was standing by a window, fully dressed. She looked at the tray and shook her head.

“I’m afraid I can’t eat,” she said. “Thanks, anyhow. I’ll have the coffee.”

Maggie put down the tray firmly.

“You’ll eat,” she said. “Somebody’s got to keep going around here.” Her voice softened. “Try it anyhow, dearie,” she said. “Just remember she was old. She hadn’t long anyhow.”

Jan’s chin quivered.

“She liked living.”

“Well, so do we all,” said Maggie, philosophically. “That don’t mean we can go on forever.”

She went out. Jan looked at Hilda.

“I’ve been trying to think. How are we to get word to Mother? I don’t suppose it is in the papers, is it?”

“I hardly think so. There wasn’t time.”

“And there are no evening papers today,” Jan said desperately. “She may not hear it until tomorrow. And she ought to be here. Uncle Carl’s no good at that sort of thing, and Susie’s asleep. I went in and she was dead to the world. I wanted to talk to her. I—”

Her voice trailed off. Her hands shook as she tried to pour the coffee. Hilda took the miniature pot from her and poured it for her.

“Why not waken her?” she said quietly. “After all, if it’s important—”

“Important!” Jan’s voice was bitter. “You’ve seen her. You’ve heard her. You know she hated Granny. She hated living in the house with her. Uncle Carl wanted a farm, and she adores him. They can have it now,” she added hopelessly. “They’ll have her money. First she tried to scare Granny to death, and when that wasn’t any good—”