"I wish, Uncle Fabian, that you would be more explicit and tell me all you know of Rose Flowers--or Mrs. Stillwater--before she became Mrs. Rockharrt."
"Have you told me all you know of her, Cora, my dear?"
"I have said several times that I know nothing, and yet--stop--"
"In addition to that strange interview that I overheard, yet did not understand, there was something else that I saw, but equally did not understand."
"Something that happened while we were in New York city in May last."
"Yes, certainly. We were staying at the Star Hotel. We stayed over Sunday, and we went to the Episcopal church near our hotel, to hear an English divine preach."
"He was the celebrated pulpit orator, the Dean of Olivet--"
"Good Heav--" exclaimed Mr. Fabian, involuntarily, but stopping himself suddenly.
"What is the matter?" demanded Cora, suspiciously.
"I was too near the edge of the precipice. We might have been in the river in another moment," said Mr. Fabian.
Cora did not believe him, but she refrained from saying so.
"We were shown into the strangers' pew. The voluntary was playing. We all bowed our heads for the short private prayer. The voluntary stopped. Then we heard the voice of the dean and we lifted our heads. I turned to offer Mrs. Stillwater a prayer book. Then I saw her face. It was ghastly, and her eyes were fixed in a wild stare upon the face of the dean, whose eyes were upon the open book from which he was reading. Quick as lightning she covered her face with her veil and so remained until we all knelt down for the opening prayer. When we arose from our knees, Rose was gone."
"We did not leave the church. Grandfather evidently took for granted that Rose had left on account of some trifling indisposition, and he is not easily moved by women's ailments, you know. So we stayed out the services and the sermon. When we returned to the hotel we found that Rose had retired to her room suffering from a severe attack of neuralgic headache, as she said."
"I thought she might have been suddenly attacked by maddening pain, which had given the wild look to her eyes; but the next day I had good reason to change my opinion as to the cause of her strange demeanor."
"We all left the hotel at an early hour to take the train for West Point. Mrs. Stillwater seemed to have quite recovered from her illness. We had arrived at the depot and received our tickets, and were waiting at the rear of a great crowd at the railway gate, till it should be opened to let us pass to our train. I was standing on the right of my grandfather, and Rose on my right. Suddenly a man looked around. He was a great Wall Street broker who had dealings with your firm. Seeing grandfather, he spoke to him heartily, and then begged to introduce the gentleman who was with him. And then and there he presented the Dean of Olivet to Mr. Rockharrt, who, after a few words of polite greeting, presented the dean to me, and turned to find Rose Stillwater."