May 31st.—­My alternatives and her plans are both overthrown together.

The newspaper came in, as usual, after breakfast.  I looked it over, and discovered this memorable entry among the obituary announcements of the day: 

“On the 29th inst., at Brighton, Michael Vanstone, Esq., formerly of Zurich, aged 77.”

Miss Vanstone was present in the room when I read those two startling lines.  Her bonnet was on; her boxes were packed; she was waiting impatiently until it was time to go to the train.  I handed the paper to her, without a word on my side.  Without a word on hers, she looked where I pointed, and read the news of Michael Vanstone’s death.

The paper dropped out of her hand, and she suddenly pulled down her veil.  I caught one glance at her face before she hid it from me.  The effect on my mind was startling in the extreme.  To put it with my customary dash of humor—­her face informed me that the most sensible action which Michael Vanstone, Esq., formerly of Zurich, had ever achieved in his life was the action he performed at Brighton on the 29th instant.

Finding the dead silence in the room singularly unpleasant under existing circumstances, I thought I would make a remark.  My regard for my own interests supplied me with a subject.  I mentioned the Entertainment.

“After what has happened,” I said, “I presume we go on with our performances as usual?”

“No,” she answered, behind the veil.  “We go on with my inquiries.”

“Inquiries after a dead man?”

“Inquiries after the dead man’s son.”

“Mr. Noel Vanstone?”

“Yes; Mr. Noel Vanstone.”

Not having a veil to put down over my own face, I stooped and picked up the newspaper.  Her devilish determination quite upset me for the moment.  I actually had to steady myself before I could speak to her again.

“Are the new inquiries as harmless as the old ones?” I asked.

“Quite as harmless.”

“What am I expected to find out?”

“I wish to know whether Mr. Noel Vanstone remains at Brighton after the funeral.”

“And if not?”

“If not, I shall want to know his new address wherever it may be.”

“Yes.  And what next?”

“I wish you to find out next if all the father’s money goes to the son.”

I began to see her drift.  The word money relieved me; I felt quite on my own ground again.

“Anything more?” I asked.

“Only one thing more,” she answered.  “Make sure, if you please, whether Mrs. Lecount, the housekeeper, remains or not in Mr. Noel Vanstone’s service.”

Her voice altered a little as she mentioned Mrs. Lecount’s name; she is evidently sharp enough to distrust the housekeeper already.

“My expenses are to be paid as usual?” I said.

“As usual.”

“When am I expected to leave for Brighton?”

“As soon as you can.”