"Aunt Helena."

She looked round with a little cry, all her nerves trembling and
unstrung. Inez stood before her--Inez with dark, resolute eyes, and
stony face.

"I have been waiting for you--they told me you were _there_." She
pointed with a shudder to the door. "What are we to do?"

"Don't ask me," Lady Helena answered, helplessly. "I don't know. I
feel stunned and stupid with all these horrors."

"The police are here," Miss Catheron went on, "and the coroner has
been apprised. I suppose, they will hold an inquest to-morrow."

Her aunt looked at her in surprise. The calm, cold tone of her voice
grated on her sick heart.

"Have you seen _him_?" she asked almost in a whisper. "Inez--I
fear--I fear it is turning his brain."

Miss Catheron's short, scornful upper lip, curled with the old look of
contempt.

"The Catheron brain was never noted for its strength. I shall not be
surprised at all. Poor wretch!" She turned away and looked out into
the darkness. "It does seem hard on him."

"Who can have done it?"