So we stumbled on for a while, with never a word spoken, until we came
to a beaten track or footpath leading across the wood. Here I paused to
examine the footprints, of which several were visible in the soft earth,
though none seemed very recent; but, proceeding a little way down the
track, I perceived, crossing it, a set of fresh imprints, which I
recognized at once as Miss Haldean's. She was wearing, as I knew, a pair
of brown golf-boots, with rubber pads in the leather soles, and the
prints made by them were unmistakable.
"Miss Haldean crossed the path here," I said, pointing to the
footprints.
"Don't speak of her before me!" exclaimed Mrs. Haldean; but she gazed
eagerly at the footprints, nevertheless, and immediately plunged into
the wood to follow the tracks.
"You are very unjust to your niece, Mrs. Haldean," I ventured to
protest.
She halted, and faced me with an angry frown.
"You don't understand!" she exclaimed. "You don't know, perhaps, that
if my poor child is really dead, Lucy Haldean will be a rich woman, and
may marry to-morrow if she chooses?"
"I did not know that," I answered, "but if I had, I should have said the
same.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114