There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. Together they crept through the erstwhile drawing room and entered the massive flagged hall. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr. "We're forgetting," he said. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. She was the type that people of every age gravitated to, naturally affable and kind to everyone.
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