“Of course I am,” she cried.  “I did not know you were in England.  Why did you not let me know, and why are you here?”

“I only returned home three days ago.  My journey to Beechcroft was a hasty resolve.  This is my friend, Mr. Reginald Brett.  He was just about to explain to Mr. Capella the object of our visit when you came in.”

Neither husband nor wife looked at the other.  Mrs. Capella was flustered, indulging in desperate surmises, but she laughed readily enough.

“I heard a noise in this room, and then the bell rang.  I thought something had happened.  You know—­I mean, I thought there was no one here.”

“I fear that I am the culprit, Mrs. Capella.  Your husband was good enough to invite us to enter by the window, and I promptly disturbed the household.”

Brett’s pleasant tones came as a relief.  Capella glared at him now with undisguised hostility, for the barrister’s adroit ruse had outwitted him by bringing the lady from the drawing-room, which gave on to the garden and lawn at the back of the house.

“Please do not take the blame of my intrusion, Mr. Brett,” said Margaret, with forced composure.  “You will stay for luncheon, will you not?  And you, Davie?  Are you at Mrs. Eastham’s?”

Her concluding question was eager, almost wistful.  Her cousin answered it first.

“No,” he said.  “We have driven over from Stowmarket.”

“And, unfortunately,” put in the barrister, “we are pledged to visit Mrs. Eastham within an hour.”

The announcement seemed to please Mrs. Capella, for some reason at present hidden from Brett.  Hume, of course, was mystified by the course taken by his friend, but held his peace.

Capella brusquely interfered: 

“Perhaps, Rita, these gentlemen would now like to make the explanation which you prevented.”

He moved towards the door.  So that his wife could rest under no doubt as to his wishes, he held it open for her.

“No, no!” exclaimed Brett.  “This matter concerns Mrs. Capella personally.  You probably forget that we asked to be allowed to see her in the first instance, but you told us that she was too unwell to receive us.”

For an instant Margaret gazed at the Italian with imperious scorn.  Then she deliberately turned her back on him, and seated herself close to her cousin.

Capella closed the door and walked to the library window.

Hume openly showed his pained astonishment at this little scene.  Brett treated the incident as a domestic commonplace.

“The fact is,” he explained, “that your cousin, Mrs. Capella, has sought my assistance in order to clear his name of the odium attached to it by the manner of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer’s death.  At my request he brought me here.  In this house, in this very room, such an inquiry should have its origin, wherever it may lead ultimately.”

The lady’s cheeks became ashen.  Her large eyes dilated.