Bettina stretched her arms over her head and yawned.

“Not so you could notice it,” she said coolly.  “I can’t thick of anything we agree on.  He is an Episcopalian; I’m a Presbyterian.  He approves of suffrage for women; I do not.  He is a Republican; I’m a Progressive.  He disapproves of large families; I approve of them, if people can afford them.”

Aggie sat straight up.  “I hope you don’t discuss that!” she exclaimed.

Bettina smiled.  “How nice to find that you are really just nice elderly ladies after all!” she said.  “Of course we discuss it.  Is it anything to be ashamed of?”

“When I was a girl,” I said tartly, “we married first and discussed those things afterward.”

“Of course you did, Aunt Lizzie,” she said, smiling alluringly.  She was the prettiest girl I think I have ever seen, and that night she was beautiful.  “And you raised enormous families who religiously walked to church in their bare feet to save their shoes!”

“I did nothing of the sort,” I snapped.

“It seems to me,” Aggie put in gently, “that you make very little of love.”  Aggie was once engaged to be married to a young man named Wiggins, a roofer by trade, who was killed in the act of inspecting a tin gutter, on a rainy day.  He slipped and fell over, breaking his neck as a result.

Bettina smiled at Aggie.  “Not at all,” she said.  “The day of blind love is gone, that’s all—­gone like the day of the chaperon.”

Neither of us cared to pursue this, and Tish at that moment appearing with Jasper, Aggie and I made a move toward bed.  But Jasper not going, and none of us caring to leave him alone with Bettina, we sat down again.

We sat until one o’clock.

At the end of that time Jasper rose, and saying something about its being almost bedtime strolled off next door.  Aggie was sound asleep in her chair and Tish was dozing.  As for Bettina, she had said hardly a word after eleven o’clock.

Aggie and Tish, as I have said, were occupying the same room.  I went to sleep the moment I got into bed, and must have slept three or four hours when I was awakened by a shot.  A moment later a dozen or more shots were fired in rapid succession and I sat bolt upright in bed.  Across the street some one was raising a window, and a man called “What’s the matter?” twice.

There was no response and no further sound.  Shaking in every limb, I found the light switch and looked at the time.  It was four o’clock in the morning and quite dark.

Some one was moving in the hall outside and whimpering.  I opened the door hurriedly and Aggie half fell into the room.

“Tish is murdered, Lizzie!” she said, and collapsed on the floor in a heap.

“Nonsense!”

“She’s not in her room or in the house, and I heard shots!”

Well, Aggie was right.  Tish was not in her room.  There was a sort of horrible stillness everywhere as we stood there clutching at each other and listening.