“You have made a bitter enemy in Mrs. LaGrange,” she said, archly; “and she has marshalled her forces against you.”

“Do you think so?” he asked, with an amused smile.

“Certainly.  She displayed her tactics this morning.  I am positive that much of the testimony was given in accordance with her orders.”

“For the most part, however, the witnesses stated facts,” Scott replied, watching her closely.

“Yes; but facts may be so misrepresented as to give an impression quite the reverse of the truth.”

“That is so.  And a misrepresentation having a foundation of truth is the hardest to fight.  But,” he added, in a lighter tone, “all this testimony against me does not seem to have produced the same impression upon you that it has upon the others.  Your suspicions do not seem, as yet, to have been very thoroughly aroused.”

“Perhaps my suspicions are as dormant as your own apprehensions.  I fail to detect the slightest anxiety on your part as to the outcome of this, one way or another.”

“No,” he replied, after a pause; “I feel no anxiety, only resentment that circumstances have conspired against me just at this time, and contempt for people who will be led by appearances rather than their own judgment.”

“People sometimes use very little judgment where their own personal interests are concerned.”

“In that case,” said Scott, as they rose to return to the library, where the others had already preceded them, “I suppose the word of one unprincipled woman and of three or four ignorant servants will be allowed to outweigh mine.”

They had reached the library and Miss Carleton made no reply, but Scott again saw the same inscrutable little smile play over her features, and wondered at its meaning.

CHAPTER IX

TANGLED THREADS

Upon resuming the examination, the first witness called for was Mary Catron, the second cook, a woman about thirty-five years of age, with an honest face, but one indicative of a fiery temper.  Her testimony was brief, but given with a directness that was amusing.  When questioned of the occurrences of the day preceding the murder, she replied,-

“I know nothing of what went on except from the gossip of the rest.  My place was in the kitchen, and I had too much to do that day to be loitering round in the halls, leaning on a broom-handle, and listening at keyholes,” and she cast a glance of scathing contempt in the direction of the chambermaid.

“Did this ‘gossip’ that you speak of have any bearing on what has since occurred?” the coroner inquired.

“Well, sir, it might and it mightn’t.  ’Twas mostly about the will that Mr. Mainwaring was making; and as how them that got little was angry that they didn’t get more, and them as got much was growling at not getting the whole.”

“How did the servants gain any knowledge of this will?”