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Updated: May 21, 2025
The little woman was back again in her own drawing-room, talking to Lucian about the discovery which had lately been made regarding Ferruci's purchase of the cloak. Mrs. Vrain having proved her own innocence by the evidence of the Pegall family, was now trying to persuade both herself and Denzil that the Count could not be possibly implicated in the matter.
Pegall dated, and all went merry as a marriage bell, while Lydia laid her plans to have herself exculpated in Lucian's eyes without being inculpated in those of the family. "We have just come up from our place in Somerset," explained Mrs. Pegall, in a comfortable voice.
She may have to do with the matter." Lydia shook her pretty head. "Not she. Mark was as respectable as the Pegall gang; there's no woman mixed up in this matter." "But I saw the shadow of a woman on the blind of No. 13!" "You don't say! In Mark's sitting-room? Well, I should smile to know he was human, after all. He was always so precious stiff!" Something in Mrs.
With outward zeal he set to work; interviewed Lydia and the Italian, to make certain that their defence was genuine; examined the Pegall family, who were dreadfully alarmed by their respectability being intruded upon by a common detective, and obtained a fresh denial from Baxter & Co.'s saleswoman that Ferruci was the purchaser of the cloak. Also he cross-questioned Mrs.
Vrain, you are not going?" "I must, dears," with a kiss all round. "I have such a lot to do, and Mr. Denzil is coming with me, as poppa wants to consult him about some law business. He's a barrister, you know." "I hope Mr. Denzil will come and see us again," said Mrs. Pegall, shaking hands with Lucian. A fat, puffy hand she had, and damp. "Oh, delighted! delighted!" said Denzil hurriedly.
"You know what I have lost." The two groaned, and Miss Cecilia Pegall, who was by way of being very religious in a Low Church way, remarked that "all flesh was grass," to which observation her excellent mamma rejoined: "Very true, dear, very true." And then the trio sighed again, and shook their black heads like so many mandarins.
The Misses Pegall and their lace-capped mamma welcomed Lucian with heavy good nature and much simpering, for they also had an eye to a comely young man; but the cunning Lydia they kissed and embraced, and called "dear" with much zeal. Mrs.
"Four rubbers," groaned Mrs. Pegall, "and retired to bed at ten o'clock, after prayers and a short hymn. Quite a carol that hymn was, eh, dears?" "And your poor pa was so bad with his cough," said Beatrice, "I hope it is better. He went away before dinner, too! Do say your pa is better!"
"The girls wanted to see the sights, so I just said, 'we'll go, dears, and perhaps we'll get a glimpse of the dear Queen. I'm sure she has no more loyal subjects than we three." "Are you going out much this year, dear Mrs. Vrain?" asked Beatrice Pegall, the elder and plainer of the sisters. "No, dear," replied Lydia, with a sigh, putting a dainty handkerchief to her eyes.
"Assuredly she is! The evidence of the Pegall family given in all innocence proves that she could not have been in Geneva Square or in Jersey Street on Christmas Eve." "Then we come back to my original belief, Mr. Denzil. Lydia did not commit the crime herself, but employed Ferruci to do so." "No," replied Denzil decidedly. "Whether the Italian is guilty or not, Mrs. Vrain knows nothing about it.
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