The Complete Detective Fleming Stone Series (All 17 Books in One Edition). Carolyn Wells

      "I'm glad to hear you say that," said Kitty, with a little sigh of relief. "Do look at that funny Miss Morton! She seems to be scolding Madeleine. I'm sorry she came. She doesn't seem very attractive. But perhaps it's because she was crossed in love and it made her queer."

      "Or she was queered in love and it made her cross," laughed Fessenden. "Well, I must go, now, and look up Carleton. Poor old boy, he was a little miffed when he went away."

      After tea all the callers departed, and those who were house guests went to their rooms to dress for dinner.

      Tom Willard, with great show of burlesque regret and tearful farewells, went to the hotel, that Miss Morton might have the room he had been occupying.

      He promised to return for dinner, and gaily blew kisses to Madeleine as with his traps he was driven down the avenue.

      At dinner, Schuyler Carleton's place was vacant. It had been arranged next to Madeleine's, and when fifteen minutes after the dinner hour he had not arrived, she haughtily accepted Tom Willard's arm and led the way to the dining-room.

      But having reached the table, she directed Tom to take his rightful seat, at some distance from her own, and Carleton's chair remained empty at Madeleine's side.

      At first this was uncomfortably evident, but Madeleine was in gay spirits, and soon the whole party followed her lead, and the conversation was general and in a merry key.

      The young hostess had never looked more regally beautiful. Her dark hair, piled high on her head, was adorned with a dainty ornament which, though only a twisted ribbon, was shaped like a crown, and gave her the effect of an imperious queen. Her low-cut gown of pale yellow satin was severe of line and accented her stately bearing, while her exquisitely modelled neck and shoulders were as white and pure as those of a marble statue. Save for a double row of pearls around her throat, she wore no ornaments, but on the morrow Carleton's gift of magnificent diamonds would grace her bridal costume. The combination of haughty imperial beauty and a dazzling witchery of mood was irresistible, and the men and girls alike realized that never before had Madeleine seemed so wonderful.

      After the dessert was placed on the table, Willard could stand it no longer, and, leaving his own place, he calmly appropriated Carleton's vacant chair.

      Madeleine did not reprove him, and Kitty French took occasion to whisper to her neighbor:

      "'T were better by far to have matched our fair cousin to brave Lochinvar.'"

      Mrs. Markham overheard the quotation, and a look of pain came into her eyes. But it was all too late now, and to-morrow Madeleine would be irrevocably Schuyler Carleton's wife.

      After dinner coffee was served in the cosy library. Madeleine preferred this room to the more elaborately furnished drawing-room, and to-night her word was law.

      But suddenly her mood changed. For no apparent reason her gay spirits vanished, her smile faded away, and a pathetic droop curved the corners of her beautiful mouth.

      At about ten o'clock she said abruptly, though gently, "I wish you'd all go to bed. Unless you girls get some beauty sleep, you won't look pretty at my wedding to-morrow."

      "I'm quite ready to go," declared Kitty French with some tact, for she saw that Madeleine was nervous and strung up to a high tension.

      "I, too," exclaimed Molly Gardner, and the two girls said good-night and went upstairs.

      Two or three young men who had been dinner guests also made their adieux, and Tom Willard said, "Well, I may as well toddle to my comforts of home, as understood by a country innkeeper."

      Madeleine said good-night to him kindly enough, but without jest or gaiety. Tom looked at her curiously for a moment, and then, gently kissing her hand, he went away.

      Mrs. Markham, having seen Miss Morton comfortably installed in what had been Tom's room, returned to the library to offer her services to Madeleine.

      But the girl only thanked her, saying, "There is nothing you can do to-night. I want to be alone for an hour or two. I will stay here in the library for a time, and I'd like to have you send Cicely to me."

      A few moments later Cicely Dupuy came in, bringing some letters and papers. She was Miss Van Norman's private secretary, and admirably did she fill the post. Quick-witted, clever, deft of hand and brain, she answered notes, kept accounts, and in many ways made herself invaluable to her employer.

      Moreover, Madeleine liked her. Cicely was of a charming personality. Small, fair, with big, childish blue eyes and a rose-leaf skin, she was a pretty picture to look at.

      "Sit down," said Madeleine, "and make a little list of some final matters I want you to attend to to-morrow."

      Cicely sat down, and, taking pencil and tablet from the library table, made the lists as Madeleine directed. This occupied but a short time, and then Miss Van Norman said wearily:

      "You may go now, Cicely. Go to bed at once, dear. You will have much to do to-morrow. And please tell Marie I shall not need her services to-night. She may go to her room. I shall sit here for an hour or more, and I will answer these notes. I wish to be alone."

      "Very well, Miss Van Norman," said Cicely, and, taking the lists she had made, she went softly from the room.

      Chapter III.

       A Cry in the Night

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      "Help!"

      The loud cry of a single word was not repeated, but repetition was unnecessary, for the sound rang through the old Van Norman house, and carried its message of fear and horror to all, awake or sleeping, within its walls.

      It was about half-past eleven that same night, and Cicely Dupuy, still fully dressed, flew from her bedroom out into the hall.

      Seeing a light downstairs, and hearing the servants' bells, one after another, as if rung by a frantic hand, she hesitated a moment only, and then ran downstairs.

      In the lower hall Schuyler Carleton, with a dazed expression on his white, drawn face, was uncertainly pushing various electric buttons which, in turn, flashed lights on or off, or rang bells in distant parts of the house.

      For a moment Cicely stared straight at the man.

      Their eyes met, their gaze seemed to concentrate, and they stood motionless, as if spellbound.

      This crisis was broken in upon by Marie, Madeleine's French maid, who came running downstairs in a hastily donned negligee.

      "Mon Dieu!" she cried. "Ou est Mademoiselle?"

      With a start, Carleton turned from Cicely, and still with that dazed look on his face, he motioned Marie toward the wide doorway of the library. The girl took a step toward the threshold, and then, with a shriek, paused, and ventured no further.

      Cicely, as if impelled by an unseen force, slowly turned and followed Marie's movements, and as the girl screamed, Cicely grasped her tightly by the arm, and the two stood staring in at the library door.

      What they saw was Madeleine Van Norman, seated in a chair at the library table. Her right arm was on the table, and her head, which had fallen to one side, was supported by her right shoulder. Her eyes were partly closed, and her lips were parted, and the position of the rigid figure left no need for further evidence that this was not a natural sleep.

      But further evidence there was. Miss Van Norman still wore her yellow satin gown, but the beautiful embroidered bodice was stained a dull red, and a crimson stream was even then spreading its way down the shimmering breadths of the trailing skirt.

      On the table, near the outstretched white hand, lay a Venetian dagger. This dagger was well known to the onlookers. It had lain on the library table for many years, and though ostensibly for the purpose of a paper-cutter, it was rarely used as such. Its edges were too sharp to cut paper satisfactorily,