Part 23 (1/2)
”She lured him on. I've heard you say yourself, Mr. Calhoun, that this Van Allen person is a siren, a--”
”Now, now, Miss Rhoda,” I began, but the other sister chimed in.
”Of course she is! Of course, the wrong was mostly hers. And she killed Randolph, I know it! Why, the waiter man saw her! Go ahead, Mr. Lowney, hunt her down, and bring her to account. I never shall sleep peacefully until my brother's death is avenged! I cannot understand, Ruth, how you can be so indifferent.”
A flush rose to Ruth Schuyler's cheek, and, enlightened anew to her husband's character by that letter, I began to feel a different sort of sympathy for the widow.
Randolph Schuyler had been unfaithful, he had been domineering and tyrannical, and I knew he had not allowed his wife to have the comforts and luxuries she desired, although he was enormously wealthy.
A social secretary, for instance. Most women of Ruth Schuyler's rank in society had that necessary a.s.sistant, yet, during Schuyler's life his wife was forbidden the favor.
Winnie had told me this, and had told me much more, that proved how unjust and unkind Randolph Schuyler had been. The sisters, too, shared his views, and as a consequence, the household was run on old-fas.h.i.+oned lines that ill accord with the ways of to-day.
Mrs. Schuyler had in no way complained, Win told me, but it was easily seen how matters stood. It fell to Winnie's lot to order many things from the shops--stationery, mourning apparel, and house needs. These, my sister said, were ordered with the most perfect taste, but with a lavishness, which was indubitably unusual to Ruth Schuyler.
The sisters exclaimed at the extravagance, but Ruth, though listening politely, serenely went her own way, and carried out her own plans. In the matter of fresh flowers, she was like a child, Win said, and she enjoyed the blossoms she ordered as if she had hungered for them for years. Winnie was growing deeply attached to her employer, if that word is applicable, and Ruth Schuyler was fond of Win.
But I am digressing. Mrs. Schuyler replied to her sister-in-law's speech by saying, gently, ”I am not indifferent, Sarah, but it seems to me we have no real evidence against the girl, and--”
”No real evidence! When she was caught red-handed! Or nearly caught!
If that stupid waiter had had sense enough to jump and grab her, we would have had no search to make at all!”
”It may be so, Sarah, you may be right. But until you do find her don't condemn her utterly. From what Mr. Calhoun has told me of her and from the tone of that letter she wrote to Randolph, I can't make it seem possible that she killed a man she knew so slightly. And yet, it may be she did.”
”Well,” remarked Lowney, ”the note proves that she had seen Mr.
Schuyler before, anyway. Then, when he came to her house as Mr.
Somers, she was naturally annoyed, as she had asked him not to do so.
And all that is against the girl, I say. But it remains to be seen what the coroner's jury will think of it.”
”They'll see it in its true light,” declared Rhoda Schuyler. ”Of course, she was angry when he came to her house after being forbidden, unless the sly thing wrote the note just to lure him on, but in any case, she was alone with him, she used the knife on him and she ran away. What more evidence do you need? Now, to find her. That's a task I shall never give up or neglect until I've accomplished it.”
”And you are right, Rhoda,” said Ruth, ”if the girl is guilty. I hope she will be found, for I'm sure the truth could then be learned, whether she is guilty or not.”
”Will you come, now, Mrs. Schuyler,” said Tibbetts, from the doorway.
”The flowers have arrived.”
Ruth, beckoning to Winnie, rose, and the two left the room.
”Perfectly idiotic,” said Sarah, ”the way she orders flowers! Fresh ones every day!”
”But hasn't she a right to spend her own money as she likes?” I defended.
”A legal right, perhaps,” was the retort, ”but not a moral right to disregard her husband's wishes so utterly.”
CHAPTER XII
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