That Affair Next Door

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That Affair Next Door, by Anna Katharine Green

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Title: That Affair Next Door
Author: Anna Katharine Green
Release Date: May 26, 2007 [EBook #21617]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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That Affair Next Door
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
Author of "The House Of The Whispering Pines," "Initials Only," "Dark Hollow," Etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
114-120 East Twenty-third Street New York
PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
COPYRIGHT, 1897
BY
ANNA KATHARINE ROHLFS
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
* * * * *
Transcriber's note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes moved to end of chapter.
* * * * *

CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
MISS BUTTERWORTH'S WINDOW.
PAGE
I.--A DISCOVERY 1
II.--QUESTIONS 14
III.--AMELIA DISCOVERS HERSELF 23
IV.--SILAS VAN BURNAM 36
V.--THIS IS NO ONE I KNOW 41
VI.--NEW FACTS 51
VII.--MR. GRYCE DISCOVERS MISS AMELIA 55
VIII.--THE MISSES VAN BURNAM 68
IX.--DEVELOPMENTS 77
X.--IMPORTANT EVIDENCE 88
XI.--THE ORDER CLERK 98
XII.--THE KEYS 114
XIII.--HOWARD VAN BURNAM 126
XIV.--A SERIOUS ADMISSION 141
XV.--A RELUCTANT WITNESS 155
BOOK II.
THE WINDINGS OF A LABYRINTH.
XVI.--COGITATIONS 163
XVII.--BUTTERWORTH VERSUS GRYCE 170
XVIII.--THE LITTLE PINCUSHION 176
XIX.--A DECIDED STEP FORWARD 187
XX.--MISS BUTTERWORTH'S THEORY 201
XXI.--A SHREWD CONJECTURE 208
XXII.--A BLANK CARD 217
XXIII.--RUTH OLIVER 229
XXIV.--A HOUSE OF CARDS 244
XXV.--"THE RINGS! WHERE ARE THE RINGS?" 255
XXVI.--A TILT WITH MR. GRYCE 260
XXVII.--FOUND 266
XXVIII.--TAKEN ABACK 272
BOOK III.
THE GIRL IN GRAY.
XXIX.--AMELIA BECOMES PEREMPTORY 274
XXX.--THE MATTER AS STATED BY MR. GRYCE 283
XXXI.--SOME FINE WORK 296
XXXII.--ICONOCLASM 311
XXXIII.--"KNOWN, KNOWN, ALL KNOWN" 321
XXXIV.--EXACTLY HALF-PAST THREE 329
XXXV.--A RUSE 335
BOOK IV.
THE END OF A GREAT MYSTERY.
XXXVI.--THE RESULT 341
XXXVII.--"TWO WEEKS!" 345
XXXVIII.--A WHITE SATIN GOWN 350
XXXIX.--THE WATCHFUL EYE 357
XL.--AS THE CLOCK STRUCK 364
XLI.--SECRET HISTORY 368
XLII.--WITH MISS BUTTERWORTH'S COMPLIMENTS 395

THAT AFFAIR NEXT DOOR.

BOOK I.
MISS BUTTERWORTH'S WINDOW.

I.
A DISCOVERY.
I am not an inquisitive woman, but when, in the middle of a certain warm night in September, I heard a carriage draw up at the adjoining house and stop, I could not resist the temptation of leaving my bed and taking a peep through the curtains of my window.
First: because the house was empty, or supposed to be so, the family still being, as I had every reason to believe, in Europe; and secondly: because, not being inquisitive, I often miss in my lonely and single life much that it would be both interesting and profitable for me to know.
Luckily I made no such mistake this evening. I rose and looked out, and though I was far from realizing it at the time, took, by so doing, my first step in a course of inquiry which has ended----
But it is too soon to speak of the end. Rather let me tell you what I saw when I parted the curtains of my window in Gramercy Park, on the night of September 17, 1895.
Not much at first glance, only a common hack drawn up at the neighboring curb-stone. The lamp which is supposed to light our part of the block is some rods away on the opposite side of the street, so that I obtained but a shadowy glimpse of a young man and woman standing below me on the pavement. I could see, however, that the woman--and not the man--was putting money into the driver's hand. The next moment they were on the stoop of this long-closed house, and the coach rolled off.
It was dark, as I have said, and I did not recognize the young people,--at least their figures were not familiar to me; but when, in another instant, I heard the click of a night-key, and saw them, after a rather tedious fumbling at the lock, disappear from the stoop, I took it for granted that the gentleman was Mr. Van Burnam's eldest son Franklin, and the lady some relative of the family; though why this, its most punctilious member, should bring a guest at so late an hour into a house devoid of everything necessary to make the least exacting visitor comfortable, was a mystery that I retired to bed to meditate upon.
I did not succeed in solving it, however, and after some ten minutes had elapsed, I was settling myself again to sleep when I was re-aroused by a fresh sound from the quarter mentioned. The door I had so lately heard shut, opened again, and though I had to rush for it, I succeeded in getting to my window in time to catch a glimpse of the departing figure of the young man hurrying away towards Broadway. The young woman was not with him, and as I realized that he had left her behind him in the great, empty house, without apparent