"There is some mystery here," said the medical woman solemnly. "All is not right, but I'll see this matter out, or my name is not Jane Lord."
Downstairs went Mrs. Whitley and "Jane Lord" to tell the news. There was an excited chorus of enquiries to a duet of replies.
Why and how had Prudence Semaphore spirited away her sick sister? What had happened? She had certainly told Mrs. Wilcox that Miss Augusta would go for change of air, but who could imagine her sneaking off in the evening without luggage or farewell? There was something behind it, but what?
"It sounds just like one of those horrid police cases one reads in the papers," said Mrs. Dumaresq; "I do hope the poor creature has not been murdered and the body conveyed away."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitley, "surely you don't think her sister—"
"I don't think anything," said Mrs. Dumaresq with dignity; "but I must say Miss Prudence Semaphore's manner has more than once struck me as peculiar."
Mrs. Whitley lowered her voice to an awe-*stricken whisper.
