“`How to be beautiful,’” he quoted. “`Advice to maids and matrons,’ by Beatrice Fairfax!” And then I saw myself.  I had neglected to remove my wrinkle eradicators, and I presume my appearance was odd.  I believe that it is a woman’s duty to care for her looks, but it is much like telling a necessary falsehood—­one must not be found out.  By the time I got them off Halsey was serious again, and I listened to his story.

“Aunt Ray,” he began, extinguishing his cigarette on the back of my ivory hair-brush, “I would give a lot to tell you the whole thing.  But—­I can’t, for a day or so, anyhow.  But one thing I might have told you a long time ago.  If you had known it, you would not have suspected me for a moment of—­of having anything to do with the attack on Arnold Armstrong.  Goodness knows what I might do to a fellow like that, if there was enough provocation, and I had a gun in my hand—­under ordinary circumstances.  But—­I care a great deal about Louise Armstrong, Aunt Ray.  I hope to marry her some day.  Is it likely I would kill her brother?”

“Her stepbrother,” I corrected.  “No, of course, it isn’t likely, or possible.  Why didn’t you tell me, Halsey?”

“Well, there were two reasons,” he said slowly.

“One was that you had a girl already picked out for me—­”

“Nonsense,” I broke in, and felt myself growing red.  I had, indeed, one of the—­but no matter.

“And the second reason,” he pursued, “was that the Armstrongs would have none of me.”

I sat bolt upright at that and gasped.

“The Armstrongs!” I repeated.  “With old Peter Armstrong driving a stage across the mountains while your grandfather was war governor—­”

“Well, of course, the war governor’s dead, and out of the matrimonial market,” Halsey interrupted.  “And the present Innes admits himself he isn’t good enough for—­for Louise.”

“Exactly,” I said despairingly, “and, of course, you are taken at your own valuation.  The Inneses are not always so self-depreciatory.”

“Not always, no,” he said, looking at me with his boyish smile.  “Fortunately, Louise doesn’t agree with her family.  She’s willing to take me, war governor or no, provided her mother consents.  She isn’t overly-fond of her stepfather, but she adores her mother.  And now, can’t you see where this thing puts me?  Down and out, with all of them.”

“But the whole thing is absurd,” I argued.  “And besides, Gertrude’s sworn statement that you left before Arnold Armstrong came would clear you at once.”

Halsey got up and began to pace the room, and the air of cheerfulness dropped like a mask.

“She can’t swear it,” he said finally.  “Gertrude’s story was true as far as it went, but she didn’t tell everything.  Arnold Armstrong came here at two-thirty—­came into the billiard-room and left in five minutes.  He came to bring—­something.”

“Halsey,” I cried, “you must tell me the whole truth.  Every time I see a way for you to escape you block it yourself with this wall of mystery.  What did he bring?”