She took no cab this time. She knew the way. As she walked along she was conscious of the fact that she was being followed. She smiled bitterly to herself. What had those people to be afraid of? Did they think she was going to run away?
Her heart gave a great leap as she saw the lights gleaming behind the drawn blinds at No. 17. She had only to ring once, then the door was promptly opened by a typical English servant, who waited for the visitor to speak.
“I think there is a lady here I want to see,” Maria stammered. “At least she was here for some time in the spring. You see, she is my sister, and we have not met for twenty years. It may appear strange, but I don’t even know her name.”
It seemed to Maria that this was a proper precaution on her part. Though her explanation sounded weak enough, to her great relief she saw the servant smile and open the door a little wider.
“That is all right, madam,” the servant said. “I can see that you are my mistress’s sister by the likeness. Will you please come this way.”
The next five minutes seemed like an hour to Maria. Then the door opened, and a tall, dark woman came in. The two looked at one another for quite a minute in absolute silence. It was so strange to meet after all these years, so sad for both to see how the other had altered. Then Maria Delahay moved forward, and the two women kissed each other almost coldly.
“Why did you come here?” the Countess said. “How did you manage to find me out? I thought you were dead.”
“I thought you were dead, too, till the other night,” Maria said. “I was told that twenty years ago. I should not be here at all but for an amazing chance. You will remember that you were staying at the Grand Hotel some time in the spring, and it so happens that my rooms are on the same floor as yours, and that the same chambermaid is still there. When she welcomed me as an old customer I guessed by instinct that you were still alive. And if you only knew it, there is a providence behind this thing.”
Countess Flavio appeared to be listening in a dull, mechanical kind of way. There was no disguising the fact that she was both distressed and disconcerted to find herself face to face with her long-lost sister again. “You know nothing of my history?” she asked. “Not till tonight,” Maria said. “I have recently been listening to it. I knew nothing. How could I know anything? When our dream of happiness came so suddenly to an end I became practically a prisoner in that dreadful old house of ours near Naples. I was told that you were dead, and I believed the story. I knew nothing of your existence till a day or two ago. I was utterly ignorant of the fact that you had had such a dreadful time. Not that I would believe anything they say, Carlotta, because I know what you were in the old days. But however dreadful your experiences have been, you, at any rate, snatched a brief happiness. You married the man of your choice. How did you manage to escape?”
“Oh, don’t ask me,” Carlotta Flavio said bitterly. “If you only knew everything you would see that you were far better off in your prison than I was with my liberty. Do you know that I was five times tried for my life? Do you know that for four years I was the most execrated woman in South Italy? But I am not going into that now. I want to know what brings you here this evening. Why you should come at such an inconvenient time?”
“But why inconvenient?” Mrs. Delahay protested. “We were fond of one another in the old times. And what more natural than I should seek out my sister at the first opportunity? But you are changed. Doubtless your misfortunes have soured you. I have had my misfortunes, too. Of course you have heard lately a good deal about Mr. Louis Delahay—I mean the unfortunate artist who was found murdered in his studio the other night?”
Countess Flavio started. Her lips grew white.
“Who has not heard of it?” she said. “The papers are full of the tragedy. People are talking about nothing else. But you are not going to tell me that there is any connection—”
“Indeed, I am,” Maria went on. “As I said just now, for years I was no better than a prisoner. I should be a prisoner still if our parents had lived. Then, finally, when I found my freedom, I made a discovery that there was absolutely no money left. I was forced to get my own living. I had nothing beyond my brush, and things were going from bad to worse with me when I made the acquaintance of Louis Delahay. We always liked one another from the first, and when he asked me to marry him I gladly consented. It seemed to me that the way was opening up for a happy middle-age. It seemed to me that Fate had got tired of persecuting me at last. I married Louis Delahay and we came back to England.”
“You married Delahay?” the Countess said mechanically, “and you came back to England? I am trying to realise it. I read the account of the inquest. I know that people are saying that Delahay’s wife is responsible for his death; but I did not dream then that it was my own sister whom folks were condemning. I cannot believe it now. But why did you go out that evening. If you had remained in your room nobody would have been—”
“I left the hotel to come here,” Maria replied. “But I found that you were not in London. And now I am going to tell you
