for Lucien’s support, as the years went on he forced money from Anne Watson instead until she was always penniless.  The lower Arnold sank in the scale, the heavier his demands became.  With the rupture between him and his family, things were worse.  Anne took the child from the home and hid him in a farmhouse near Casanova, on the Claysburg road.  There she went sometimes to see the boy, and there he had taken fever.  The people were Germans, and he called the farmer’s wife Grossmutter.  He had grown into a beautiful boy, and he was all Anne had to live for.

The Armstrongs left for California, and Arnold’s persecutions began anew.  He was furious over the child’s disappearance and she was afraid he would do her some hurt.  She left the big house and went down to the lodge.  When I had rented Sunnyside, however, she had thought the persecutions would stop.  She had applied for the position of housekeeper, and secured it.

That had been on Saturday.  That night Louise arrived unexpectedly.  Thomas sent for Mrs. Watson and then went for Arnold Armstrong at the Greenwood Club.  Anne had been fond of Louise—­she reminded her of Lucy.  She did not know what the trouble was, but Louise had been in a state of terrible excitement.  Mrs. Watson tried to hide from Arnold, but he was ugly.  He left the lodge and went up to the house about two-thirty, was admitted at the east entrance and came out again very soon.  Something had occurred, she didn’t know what; but very soon Mr. Innes and another gentleman left, using the car.

Thomas and she had got Louise quiet, and a little before three, Mrs. Watson started up to the house.  Thomas had a key to the east entry, and gave it to her.

On the way across the lawn she was confronted by Arnold, who for some reason was determined to get into the house.  He had a golf-stick in his hand, that he had picked up somewhere, and on her refusal he had struck her with it.  One hand had been badly cut, and it was that, poisoning having set in, which was killing her.  She broke away in a frenzy of rage and fear, and got into the house while Gertrude and Jack Bailey were at the front door.  She went up-stairs, hardly knowing what she was doing.  Gertrude’s door was open, and Halsey’s revolver lay there on the bed.  She picked it up and turning, ran part way down the circular staircase.  She could hear Arnold fumbling at the lock outside.  She slipped down quietly and opened the door:  he was inside before she had got back to the stairs.  It was quite dark, but she could see his white shirt-bosom.  From the fourth step she fired.  As he fell, somebody in the billiard-room screamed and ran.  When the alarm was raised, she had had no time to get up-stairs:  she hid in the west wing until every one was down on the lower floor.  Then she slipped upstairs, and threw the revolver out of an upper window, going down again in time to admit the men from the Greenwood Club.