mourning, coming toward him with quick, light steps. She was looking straight at him as she came, but as he rose at her approach, she stopped short, and standing a few steps from the porch, said crisply—
"Your pardon. I have made a mistake. I am looking for Doctor Barnes."
"He has gone out for a short time only. Will you be seated, madam, and wait?"
She advanced a step and stopped irresolute.
"I suppose I must, unless," coming close to the lower step, "unless you can tell me, sir, what I wish to know."
"If it is a question of medicine, madam, I fear"
"It is not," she broke in, her voice dropping to a lower note. "It is about the—the inquiry or examination into the death of the poor young man who—but you know, of course."
"I have heard. The inquest is held at one o'clock."
"Ah! And do you know if the—the witnesses have been notified as yet?"
"They are being summoned now. As the doctor's guest I have but lately heard him sending out the papers."
"Oh, indeed!" The lady put a tiny foot upon the step as if to mount, and then withdrew it. "I think, if I may leave a message with you, sir," she said, "I will not wait."
