"Well," admitted Mildred, "it is rather too quiet for my taste. But I have plenty to do in looking after my uncle and his business. He depends so much on me, that I wonder what he will do when I get married."
"When do you intend to get married?" asked Mrs. Bolstreath, curiously. She could not disabuse herself of the idea that, living so close to Mrs. Jarsell, and having an uncle who was helped by Mrs. Jarsell, the girl knew something about the Society of Flies.
"Next year, the year after--I don't exactly know. It all depends upon my dear Freddy's success. We must have a home and an income. But I suppose we shall marry, sooner or later, and then Mrs. Jarsell can look after Uncle Solomon."
"Who is Mrs. Jarsell?" asked Lillian, artfully and cautiously.
"She is an old lady who lives at The Grange with another old lady, her former governess, Miss Armour. Both are charming. If you are dull here, perhaps, Miss Moon, you would like to meet them?"
"Later, later," put in Mrs. Bolstreath, hurriedly, "thank you for the suggestion, Miss Vincent. Meanwhile, we wish to explore the country. It is a charming neighborhood, although very quiet in many respects."
Mildred agreed and then began to plan excursions to this place and that, with the idea of making the stay of the visitors at Sheepeak pleasant. So agreeably did she behave and took such trouble in designing trips that Mrs. Bolstreath revised her opinion and began to believe that so nice a girl could not possibly know anything of Mrs. Jarsell's doings, whatever knowledge her uncle might be possessed of.
And Dan, walking at top speed along the high road in a vain attempt to quieten his mind, was convinced that the inventor had some such knowledge. The idea which had brought him to his feet, and had sent him out to work off his excitement, was that the inventor was responsible for Mrs. Jarsell's presence in London at unexpected moments. She financed him and retained him at her elbow, so to speak, that she might utilize his capabilities and his clever inventions. If, on the day of the London to York race, Mrs. Jarsell was at the Peacock Hotel about the hour of nine o'clock--as she certainly was, on the evidence of Mrs. Pelgrin, who had no obvious reason to tell a lie--she could not have got to London by train or motor in time to murder Durwin. Yet she was assuredly at Blackheath, if the cinematograph was to be believed. Dan had hitherto been puzzled to reconcile apparent impossibilities, but at tea-time the solution of the problem had suddenly flashed into his mind. Mrs. Jarsell had travelled to town on an aeroplane.