A Coin of Edward VII: A Detective Story. Hume Fergus

I admit, but surely knowing me as you do you will acquit me of meaning anything by a few wild words uttered in a hurry and without thought."

      "Why did you make use of such an expression?" asked Morley.

      "Because I was carried out of myself. I have a strain of negro blood in me, and at times say more than I mean."

      "And your negro blood will make you kill me," cried Daisy, with an expression of terror. "I am doomed – doomed!"

      "Don't be a fool, child," said Morley roughly.

      "She is a trifle hysterical," explained Mrs. Morley, comforting the girl, who was sobbing violently.

      "Mr. Morley," said Anne, rising, "I don't know who wrote that letter, or why it should have been written. Mr. Ware and I are friends, nothing more. I am not in love with him, nor is he in love with me. He has paid me no more attention than you have yourself."

      "No, that is true enough," replied Morley, "and as Giles is engaged to Daisy I don't think he is the man to pay marked attention to another woman."

      "Ah! Giles is all right," cried Daisy angrily, "but she has tempted him."

      "I deny that."

      "You can deny what you like. It is true, you know it is true."

      "Daisy! Daisy!" said Morley persuasively, whereupon she turned on him like a little fury.

      "Don't you defend her. You hate me as much as she does. You are a – "

      "Stop!" said Mrs. Morley, very pale. "Hold your tongue, Daisy. My husband has treated you in the kindest manner. When your father died you were left penniless. He took you in, and both he and I have treated you like our own child. Ungrateful girl, how can you speak so of those who have befriended you?"

      "I do. I shall. You all hate me!" cried Daisy passionately. "I never wanted your help. Giles would have married me long ago but for Mr. Morley. I had no need to live on your charity. I have a hundred a year of my own. You brought that horrid woman down to steal Giles from me, and – "

      "Take her away, Elizabeth," said Morley sharply.

      "I'll go of my own accord," cried Daisy, retreating from Mrs. Morley; "and I'll ask Giles to marry me at once, and take me from this horrid house. You are a cruel and a wicked man, Mr. Morley, and I hate you – I hate you! As for you" – she turned in a vixenish manner on Anne – "I hope you will be put in gaol some day. If I die you will be hanged – hanged!" And with a stamp of her foot she dashed out of the room, banging the door.

      "Hysteria," said Morley, wiping his face, "we must have a doctor to see her."

      "Miss Denham," said the wife, who was weeping at the cruel words of the girl, "I ask you if Daisy has ever been treated harshly in my house?"

      "No, dear Mrs. Morley, she has always received the greatest kindness both from you and your husband. She is not herself to-day – that cruel letter has upset her. In a short time she will repent of her behavior."

      "If she speaks like this to Mrs. Parry, what will happen?" moaned the poor woman, wringing her hands.

      "I'll have Mrs. Parry in court for libel if she says anything against us," said Morley fiercely. "The girl is an hysterical idiot. To accuse her best friends of – pshaw! it's not worth taking notice of. But this letter, Miss Denham?"

      "I know nothing about it, Mr. Morley."

      "Humph! I wonder if Daisy wrote it herself."

      "Oliver!" cried Mrs. Morley in amazement.

      "Why not? Hysterical girls do queer things at times. I don't suppose Mrs. Parry wrote it, old scandal-monger as she is. It is a strange letter. That Scarlet Cross, for instance." He fixed an inquiring eye on Anne.

      "That is the one thing that makes me think Daisy did not write the letter. I fancied myself she might have done it in a moment of hysteria and out of hatred of me, but she could not know anything of the Scarlet Cross. No one in Rickwell could know of that."

      "The letter was posted in London – in the General Post Office."

      "But why should any one write such a letter about me," said Anne, raising her hands to her forehead, "and the Scarlet Cross? It is very strange."

      "What is the Scarlet Cross?" asked Mrs. Morley seriously.

      "I know no more than you do," replied Anne earnestly, "save that my father sometimes received letters marked with a red cross and on his watch-chain wore a gold cross enamelled with scarlet."

      "Did your father know what the cross meant?" asked Mrs. Morley.

      "He must have known, but he never explained the matter to me."

      "Perhaps if you asked him now to – "

      "My father is dead," she said in a low voice; "he died a year ago in Italy."

      "Then this mystery must remain a mystery," said Morley, with a shrug. "Upon my word, I don't like all this. What is to be done?"

      "Put the letter into the hands of the police," suggested his wife.

      "No," said Morley decisively; "if the police heard the ravings of Daisy, Heaven knows what they would think."

      "But, my dear, it is ridiculous," said Mrs. Morley indignantly. "We have always treated Daisy like one of ourselves. We have nothing to conceal. I am very angry at her."

      "You should rather pity her," said Anne gently, "for she is a prey to nerves. However, the best thing to be done is for me to leave this place. I shall go after the New Year."

      "I'm sure I don't know what the children will do without you," sighed the lady; "they are so fond of you, and I never had any governess I got on better with. What will you do?"

      "Get a situation somewhere else," said Anne cheerfully, "abroad if possible; but I have become a bugbear to Daisy, and it is best that I should go."

      "I think so too, Miss Denham, although both my wife and I are extremely sorry to lose you."

      "You have been good friends to me," said Miss Denham simply, "and my life here has been very pleasant; but it is best I should go," she repeated, "and that letter, will you give me a copy, Mr. Morley?"

      "Certainly, but for what reason?"

      "I should like to find out who wrote it, and why it was written. It will be a difficult matter, but I am curious to know who this enemy of mine may be."

      "Do you think it is an enemy?" asked Mrs. Morley.

      Anne nodded. "And an enemy that knows something about my father's life," she said emphatically, "else why was mention made about the Scarlet Cross? But I'll learn the truth somehow, even if I have to employ a detective."

      "You had much better leave the matter alone and get another situation, Miss Denham," said Morley sagely. "We will probably hear no more of this, and when you go the matter will fade from Daisy's mind. I'll send her away to the seaside for a week, and have the doctor to see her."

      "Dr. Tait shall see her at once," said Mrs. Morley, with more vigor than was usual with her. "But about your going, Miss Denham, I am truly sorry. You have been a good friend to me, and the dear children do you credit. I hope we shall see you again."

      "When Daisy is married, not before," replied Anne firmly; "but I will keep you advised of my address."

      After some further conversation on this point the two women left the library. Daisy had shut herself in her room, and thither went Mrs. Morley. She managed to sooth the girl, and gave her a sedative which calmed her nerves. When Daisy woke from sleep somewhere about five she expressed herself sorry for her foolish chatter, but still entertained a dread and a hatred of Anne. The governess wisely kept out of the way and made her preparations for departure. As yet the children were not told that they were to lose her. Knowing what their lamentations would be like, Mrs. Morley wisely determined to postpone that information till the eleventh hour.

      There was to be a midnight service at the parish church in honor of the New Year, and Anne determined to go. She wanted all the spiritual help possible in her present state of perplexity. The unhappy love that existed between her and Giles, the enmity of Daisy, the