That Affair Next Door | Page 7

the Van Burnams?"
"Not well. But that don't signify. I know what report says of them; they
are gentlemen."
"But Mr. Van Burnam is in Europe."
"He has two sons."
"Living here?"
"No; the unmarried one spends his nights at Long Branch, and the other
is with his wife somewhere in Connecticut."
"How did the young couple you saw get in last night? Was there any
one here to admit them?"
"No; the gentleman had a key."

"Ah, he had a key."
The tone in which this was said recurred to me afterwards, but at the
moment I was much more impressed by a peculiar sound I heard
behind me, something between a gasp and a click in the throat, which
came I knew from the scrub-woman, and which, odd and contradictory
as it may appear, struck me as an expression of satisfaction, though
what there was in my admission to give satisfaction to this poor
creature I could not conjecture. Moving so as to get a glimpse of her
face, I went on with the grim self-possession natural to my character:
"And when he came out he walked briskly away. The carriage had not
waited for him."
"Ah!" again muttered the gentleman, picking up one of the broken
pieces of china which lay haphazard about the floor, while I studied the
cleaner's face, which, to my amazement, gave evidences of a confusion
of emotions most unaccountable to me.
Mr. Gryce may have noticed this too, for he immediately addressed her,
though he continued to look at the broken piece of china in his hand.
"And how come you to be cleaning the house?" he asked. "Is the family
coming home?"
"They are, sir," she answered, hiding her emotion with great skill the
moment she perceived attention directed to herself, and speaking with a
sudden volubility that made us all stare. "They are expected any day. I
didn't know it till yesterday--was it yesterday? No, the day
before--when young Mr. Franklin--he is the oldest son, sir, and a very
nice man, a very nice man--sent me word by letter that I was to get the
house ready. It isn't the first time I have done it for them, sir, and as
soon as I could get the basement key from the agent, I came here, and
worked all day yesterday, washing up the floors and dusting. I should
have been at them again this morning if my husband hadn't been sick.
But I had to go to the infirmary for medicine, and it was noon when I
got here, and then I found this lady standing outside with a policeman,
a very nice lady, a very nice lady indeed, sir, I pay my respects to

her"--and she actually dropped me a curtsey like a peasant woman in a
play--"and they took my key from me, and the policeman opens the
door, and he and me go upstairs and into all the rooms, and when we
come to this one----"
She was getting so excited as to be hardly intelligible. Stopping herself
with a jerk, she fumbled nervously with her apron, while I asked myself
how she could have been at work in this house the day before without
my knowing it. Suddenly I remembered that I was ill in the morning
and busy in the afternoon at the Orphan Asylum, and somewhat
relieved at finding so excellent an excuse for my ignorance, I looked up
to see if the detective had noticed anything odd in this woman's
behavior. Presumably he had, but having more experience than myself
with the susceptibility of ignorant persons in the presence of danger
and distress, he attached less importance to it than I did, for which I
was secretly glad, without exactly knowing my reasons for being so.
"You will be wanted as a witness by the Coroner's jury," he now
remarked to her, looking as if he were addressing the piece of china he
was turning over in his hand. "Now, no nonsense!" he protested, as she
commenced to tremble and plead. "You were the first one to see this
dead woman, and you must be on hand to say so. As I cannot tell you
when the inquest will be held, you had better stay around till the
Coroner comes. He'll be here soon. You, and this other woman too."
By other woman he meant me, Miss Butterworth, of Colonial ancestry
and no inconsiderable importance in the social world. But though I did
not relish this careless association of myself with this poor
scrub-woman, I was careful to show no displeasure, for I reasoned that
as witnesses we were equal before the law, and that it was solely in this
light he regarded us.
There was something in the manner of both these gentlemen which