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"He is suspicious enough to imagine you might have a motive in wanting to get rid of him." Morriston laughed. "I have. He is not exactly the man one wants to have prowling about the place; but it would not be polite to hint as much." The episode, trivial as it seemed to Morriston, gave Gifford food for disagreeable reflection.
That explanation by its feasibility was generally accepted as the simple solution of the mystery. "Come along!" Morriston called. "We'll all go up, and see whether the door is open or not. We shall just be in time to catch the sunset." He led the way through the hall and the corridor beyond and so up the winding stairs.
The one obvious course which it seemed he ought to take was to give Richard Morriston a hint of what was on foot, if not a stronger and more explicit statement. For that Morriston could be privy to the correspondence between his sister and Henshaw was quite unlikely.
"That will be a mere incidental result," Gifford answered, shutting the door and coming back into the room. "My object is to put it, at once and for all, out of your power to hold over Miss Morriston the threat that she is at any moment liable to be accused by you of all people of your brother's murder, and so suggest that she is in your power." "Why do you say by me, of all people?"
Kelson laughed. "If you ask me I don't think she cares a bit for him. And one can scarcely be surprised. He is not a bad fellow, but rather a prig, and Edith Morriston is not exactly the sort of girl to suffer that type of man gladly.
"Someone playing you a trick," and the girl laughed. "But who? who?" he returned. His sister gave a shrug. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough," she replied, with a smile. "I shall," he replied, as two men appeared making for the servants' entrance. "Here comes Henry with the locksmith." Miss Morriston in her stately way looked amused. "My dear old Dick, you have been making a fuss about it.
But no key would enter. The footman at last took a box of matches from his pocket, struck a light and, holding it to the key-hole, peered in. "Why, the key is in the lock, on the other side, sir," he said in astonishment. "Then the door can't be locked," Morriston said, pushing it. The footman rose and pushed too, but the door showed no sign of yielding; it was fastened sure enough.
I should say decidedly no definite idea." "Or Mr. Henshaw?" "Whatever Mr. Henshaw's ideas may be he keeps them to himself." Miss Morriston checked the remark she had seemed about to make, and for a few minutes there was an awkward silence. Gifford broke it. "I am so sorry that I have been unable to get any hint of his intentions. Believe me, it has not been for want of trying.
The party at Wynford was going over to the dance at Stowgrave that evening and it was arranged that they would call for Kelson and Gifford and all go on together. Accordingly at the appointed time the carriage stopped at the Golden Lion; Kelson joining Miss Tredworth and her brother, while Gifford drove with Morriston.
"It is rather pleasant," she said a little wearily, "to get away from the atmosphere of mystery and police investigation we have been living in at home." "Which I hope and believe will very soon be over," Gifford responded cheeringly. Miss Morriston glanced at him curiously. "You believe that?" she returned almost sharply. "How can you think so?
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