Chapter V.
Several Clues

I had often told Laura that if I ever did fall in love it would be at first sight, and now it had come. Not only Janet Pembroke's beauty and the pathetic appeal of her sorrowful face attracted me, but I was fascinated by the mystery of the girl.

The astounding news that had just been told her was so much worse than the mere fact of her uncle's death, that I fully expected her to show her emotion in desperate hysterics. But instead, it seemed to rouse in her a spirit of courage and self-reliance, and though it was quite evident that she was making a great effort, yet she ably succeeded in controlling herself perfectly.

There was no use blinking the fact; I had fallen in love with Janet Pembroke. And as the truth of the fearful tragedy penetrated her dazed brain, and she seemed so sadly in need of comfort and help my impulse was to go to her, and tell her of my sympathy and regard.

As this was out of the question, I was glad to see Laura sit by the girl's side and soothe her with kindly caresses. But, to my surprise, Janet did not faint, nor did she seem in any danger of physical collapse. On the contrary, Doctor Post's remark seemed to arouse her to action. She sat up very straight, and, though the rest of her face was perfectly white, a red spot glowed in either cheek.

"The coroner?" she said, in a strained, unnatural voice."What would he do?"

"It is necessary, my child, that he be summoned," said Doctor Masterson,"since your uncle did not die a natural death."

"But what will he do?" persisted Janet.

"He will ask questions of all who know anything about the matter, and try to discover the one who did the awful deed."

"Of course, Janet," observed George Lawrence,"we must call the coroner. It is always done, I believe, in such a case as this."

"Very well," said Janet;"but it is all so dreadful—I can't realize it. Who killed Uncle Robert? Was it a burglar? Did he steal anything?"

She seemed to be talking quite at random. George answered her kindly, and his manner was gentle and affectionate.

"We don't know, Janet dear," he said."That is what the coroner will inquire into."

I was thankful that my own business did not imperatively demand my presence at my office that day, and I concluded to stay where I was, at any rate, until the coroner arrived.

I would doubtless be called as a witness, and, too, I trusted I could be of help to Janet.

The girl puzzled while she fascinated me. She seemed so helpless and alone, and yet she