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Updated: June 21, 2025
Is that young lady here? Her name, if I remember rightly, is Camerden Miss Dorothy Camerden."
"And I? Do you mean me to be present at an interview so painful nay, so serious and so threatening? It would cut short every word you hope to hear. I cannot " "I have not asked you to. It is imperative that I should see Miss Camerden alone." I want you to be able to inform any one who approaches the door that you saw me go in there with Miss Murray." "Then I am to stay in the hall?"
"Then," she vehemently rejoined, her pale cheeks breaking out into a scarlet flush, above which her eyes shone with an almost unearthly brilliancy, "do not summon Dorothy Camerden. She is not the witness you want. I am. I am the one who uttered that scream; I am the one who saw our aunt die.
I made haste to forestall Sinclair, who was racking his brains for words with which to propound the question he dared not put too boldly. "Pardon me, Mr. Armstrong, we were looking about for a small pin dropped by Miss Camerden." The courteous gentleman bowed, hemmed, and smiled a very polite but unmeaning smile. Evidently he had not the remotest notion whether she had been in or not.
I am anxious to keep her from knowing this fresh complication as long as possible. Do you think I can look for Miss Camerden to explain herself before the doctors return, or before Mrs. Lansing's physician, for whom I have telegraphed, can arrive from New York?" "I am sure that three hours will not pass before you hear the truth. Leave me to work out the situation.
"He described her," was the unanswerable reply. "Besides, we know that she was circulating in the halls at that time. I declare I have never known a worse business," this amiable man bemoaned. "Let me send for Sinclair; he is more interested than any one else in Gilbertine's relatives; or, stay, what if I should send for Miss Camerden herself? She should be able to tell how she came by this box."
It was death we looked on, not the death we had anticipated, and for which we were in a measure prepared, but one fully as awful, and having for its victim, not Dorothy Camerden nor even Gilbertine Murray, but the heartless aunt, who had driven them both like slaves, and who now lay facing the reward of her earthly deeds alone.
I cannot say that it was Miss Camerden, however. I thought it was some one of quicker movement. She made quite a rattle with the chairs." I purposely did not look back at Sinclair. "Miss Murray?" I suggested. Mr. Armstrong made one of his low, old-fashioned bows. This, I doubt not, was out of deference to the bride-to-be. "Does Miss Murray wear white to-night?"
I subdued my own instincts, which were all for clearing Dorothy on the spot, and answered as I thought Sinclair would like me to answer. "It is a serious and very perplexing piece of business," said I; "but if you will wait a short time I do not think you will have to trouble Miss Camerden. I am sure that explanations will be given. Give the lady a chance," I stammered.
That is what I am here to ask, first of myself, then of you. For the two women pressing behind me were " "Who?" I sharply demanded, partaking in some indefinable way of his excitement and alarm. "Gilbertine Murray and Dorothy Camerden!" his prospective bride and the woman I loved and whom he knew I loved, though I had kept my secret quite successfully from every one else!
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