"I did."
Ashley shifts the line of questioning to return to it at a more favorable opportunity. It is apparent that it is becoming painful to the girl.
"What were the relations between your father and Mr. Felton—the elder Felton?"
"Almost wholly of a business nature."
"They were friends?"
"Yes. I had noticed, however, that during the last few weeks they did not meet as often as before."
"Was Mr. Felton at your house within a short time previous to the murder?"
"He was here the evening before it."
"Anything out of the ordinary in the visit?"
"Nothing, except that Mr. Felton appeared to be angry."
"Will you make an effort to recall what happened on that particular evening?" Louise is thoughtful for a few moments.
"I fear I can recall but little," she replies slowly. "I was passing through the hall on my way upstairs, and as I stepped by the library door I glanced in. Father was sitting in his desk chair and Mr. Felton was standing near the door, with his hat in his hand."
"Did you hear any of the conversation?" queries Ashley, with the keenest interest in the new scent.
"Let me see—yes; I remember Mr. Felton said: 'I can't and I won't!' I think those were his words."
"Did he appear to be excited?"
"Perhaps so. He spoke very loudly."
"And your father's reply—did you hear that?"
"Yes: I remember I paused an instant from curiosity. Father said, and I recall that his voice sounded rather harsh: 'Then there is but one alternative.' Then I went upstairs to my room. A few minutes afterward I heard the front door slam. Father did not retire until several hours afterward."
"It was not his practice to do so?"
"No; he usually retired early. I don't see what this
