Mr. Hall looked surprised at this question, but answered quietly

“No; I was to attend to the business to-day.  But I often go to New York for several days at a time.”

“And where were you last evening?” pursued the coroner.

This time Mr. Hall looked more surprised still, and said

“As it has no bearing on the matter in hand, I prefer not to answer that rather personal question.”

Mr. Monroe looked surprised in his turn, and said:  “I think I must insist upon an answer, Mr. Hall, for it is quite necessary that we learn the whereabouts of every member of this household last evening.”

“I cannot agree with you, sir,” said Gregory Hall, coolly; “my engagements for last evening were entirely personal matters, in no way connected with Mr. Crawford’s business.  As I was not in West Sedgwick at the time my late employer met his death, I cannot see that my private affairs need be called into question.”

“Quite so, quite so,” put in Mr. Orville; but Lemuel Porter interrupted him.

“Not at all so.  I agree with Mr. Monroe, that Mr. Hall should frankly tell us where he spent last evening.”

“And I refuse to do so,” said Mr. Hall, speaking not angrily, but with great decision.

“Your refusal may tend to direct suspicion toward yourself, Mr. Hall,” said the coroner.

Gregory Hall smiled slightly.  “As I was out of town, your suggestion sounds a little absurd.  However, I take that risk, and absolutely refuse to answer any questions save those which relate to the matter in hand.”

Coroner Monroe looked rather helplessly at his jurors, but as none of them said anything further, he turned again to Gregory Hall.

“The telephone message you received this morning, then, was the first knowledge you had of Mr. Crawford’s death?”

“It was.”

“And you came out here at once?”

“Yes; on the first train I could catch.”

“I am sorry you resent personal questions, Mr. Hall, for I must ask you some.  Are you engaged to Mr. Crawford’s niece, Miss Lloyd?”

“I am.”

This answer was given in a low, quiet tone, apparently without emotion of any kind, but Miss Lloyd showed, a different attitude.  At the words of Gregory Hall, she blushed, dropped her eyes, fingered her handkerchief nervously, and evinced just such embarrassment as might be expected from any young woman, in the event of a public mention of her betrothal.  And yet I had not looked for such an exhibition from Florence Lloyd.  Her very evident strength of character would seem to preclude the actions of an inexperienced debutante.

“Did Mr. Crawford approve of your engagement to his niece?” pursued Mr. Monroe.

“With all due respect, Mr. Coroner,” said Gregory Hall, in his subdued but firm way, “I cannot think these questions are relevant or pertinent.  Unless you can assure me that they are, I prefer not to reply.”