Elaine's room was at some distance from Nora's; they were in different wings. Miss Harding, whose habits were, in some respects, peculiar, always preferred that her room should not be too close to her friend's; though Nora herself would have liked to have had her nearer. To reach Miss Lindsay Elaine had to traverse a lengthy passage, which was divided in the centre by a square opening, which was used sometimes as a lounge. As Miss Harding moved along some one came out of this recess, and addressed her. It was Morgan, the butler.  
Mr. Morgan was tall and fair--very fair. His face and eyebrows, and eyelashes, and hair were all of the same colour; it had rather an odd effect, which some people thought unpleasant. Many persons have an uncomfortable habit of never looking you in the face; he had what some felt was a nearly equally uncomfortable habit of never looking away from your face; he regarded any one with whom he might be talking with a fixed, impassive stare, which never faltered; there was a quality in his light greyish-blue eyes which, under such circumstances, was occasionally disconcerting. Miss Harding, who, in her way, was shrewd enough, had never known what to make of him; more than once, during her visits to Cloverlea, she had had a vague feeling that his demeanour towards her was not quite all that it ought to have been; the feeling came to her with unpleasant force as he stood before her then. Yet nothing could have been more decorous than his bearing; while he spoke with the softly modulated voice with which a well-trained servant ought to speak.
 
"I beg your pardon, Miss Harding, but can I speak to you for a moment?"
 
She said him neither yea nor nay, but put to him a question in return.
 
"What is it, Morgan?"
 
"It's about these."
 
He was extending towards her, on his open palm, what she perceived were three sovereigns. Whose they were, whence they came, what they meant, she had not a notion; but all at once she was conscious, not only of a curious fluttering of the heart, but of a desire to get away from him as quickly as she could.
 
"I can't stop now; if you have anything you wish to say you must say it later; I'm going to Miss Lindsay, she's waiting for me; and--I'm not feeling very well."
 
Why she added that last remark she did not know; a second after she wished it had been left unuttered--he fastened on it with such singular eagerness.
 
"You're not looking well--I've noticed it."
 
She was just about to hurry on, but there was something about the way in which he spoke which induced her to pause; something impertinent, which stung her, so that she regarded him with angry eyes, and replied to him with scorn.
 
"It's very good of you."
 
"I've noticed that you've not been looking well--ever since last Thursday."
 
This time he spoke with a significance which startled her, though she did not understand.
 
"Why since last Thursday?"
 
"I'll tell you. I was in the study when you were. After you had gone I found these three sovereigns. One was lying on the floor, and the other two were lodged on the shelves of the bookcase. And ever since then I've noticed that you've not been looking well."
 
A great horror was stealing over her, which she tried to get the better of, but failed. He regarded her with that impassive stare of his, which compelled her eyes to be fixed on his, whether they would or they would not.
 
"I--I don't know what you--what you mean."
 
It was strange how her voice trembled; his was steady enough, like the voice of doom.
 
"I'll explain. You remember last Thursday, the day on which the master was taken ill? I don't think you're ever likely to forget it. It occurred to me, after dinner, that the lamp had been left lighted, and the window open; so I went to put out the one and shut the other. When I got into the room, rather to my surprise, I found that the lamp was out, though the window was still open. As I stood there, in the darkness, I heard some one outside, coming along the terrace; presently you appeared at the open window. The moon was shining through the window, and you stood right in the moonshine, so that I saw you as plainly as if it had been daylight. But in the room it was darker; I expect that, coming in out of the moonlight, it seemed darker to you than it did to me. You didn't know I was there; I suppose that, being in a bit of a hurry, and with your thoughts all fixed on one thing, you took it for granted that the room was empty. It was rather funny--that's how it struck me at the time, and that's how it's struck me more than once; but perhaps that's because I've got a very keen eye for anything humorous.
 
"You went right across the room towards the oak bookcase which stands on the other side of the door, passing so close to me that I felt the wind of your skirts against my trousers as you passed, and I guessed that you knew what you were after before you came there, though I never guessed for a moment what it was. The bookcase was in the shadow, and mine not being cat's eyes, I couldn't see all that you were doing; but I could hear; and there are times when the sense of hearing conveys a good deal of information. I heard you takedown some of the books, then a rustling, then the chink of money. By that time you may be sure that I was all ears, and eyes--mine had almost become cat's eyes before you'd finished. I saw that you had something white in your hand, which I guessed was your pocket-handkerchief; and I partly saw, and partly heard, that you were shovelling coins on it which you were taking from one of the bookcase shelves. Either there were too many coins for such a small handkerchief--those handkerchiefs of yours are pretty, but they're small; I like one which is about the size of a towel--or else you were a little clumsy; you're not, as a rule, I know; I've often been struck by the natty way you have of doing things; but perhaps being in such a hurry made you a trifle nervous. Anyhow, as you're aware, you dropped some of the coins which you were putting into the handkerchief; I heard them fall, and so did you. You stooped to pick them up. I expected every second that you'd strike a match, or get a light somehow; in which case you'd have seen me, and it might have been funnier still. But you didn't. You felt, and felt, and felt; I take it that you thought you'd felt everywhere, and that as you could feel no more of the coins, that you'd picked up all you'd dropped. Presently, whether satisfied or not upon that point, you went out the way that you'd come in."
 
Mr. Morgan paused, and Miss Harding tried to breathe. It seem............