them.

He inquired concerning Mr. Schuyler's habits and pursuits, his
recreations and his social life.

All three of the women gave responses to these queries, and I learned
many things.

First, that Randolph Schuyler was one manner of man at home and
another abroad. The household, it was plain to be seen, was one of
most conservative customs and rigidly straightbacked in its
conventions.

Mrs. Schuyler was not a second wife. She had been married about seven
years, and had lived the last five of them in the house we were now
in. She was much younger than her husband, and he had, I could see,
kept her from all knowledge of or participation in his Bohemian
tastes. They were the sort of people who have a box at the opera and
are patrons of the best and most exclusive functions of the highest
society. Mrs. Schuyler, after the first shock, recovered her poise,
and though now and then a tremor shook her slight frame, she bore
herself with dignity and calm.

The two maiden ladies also grew quieter, but we all nervously awaited
the return of the butler.

At last he came.

"It's the master, Madame," he said, simply, to his mistress as he
entered the room. "He is dead."