Chapter 12 - Page 2

known Minnie Moore for years, though I
never remembered to have seen her in my life till that minute.

Well, I remained at the Moores' for a week, and felt quite at home
there. They were all very nice, Cousin Willie, and Aunt Emily (she
made me call her aunt; she said I'd always done so), and Minnie, and
all of them. They were really dear people; and blood, after all, is
thicker than water. But I made no haste to push inquiries just at
first. I preferred to feel my way. I wanted to find out what they
knew, if anything, about Berry Pomeroy.

The first time I ventured to mention the subject to Minnie, she gave
a very queer smile--a smile of maidenly badinage.

"Well, you remember THAT, any way," she said, in a teasing little
way, looking down at me and laughing. "I thought you'd remember
that. I must say you enjoyed yourself wonderfully at Berry Pomeroy!"

"Remember what?" I cried, all eagerness; for I saw she attached some
special importance to the recollection. And yet, it was terrible she
should jest about the clue to my father's murderer!

Minnie looked arch. When she looked arch, she was charming.

"Why, I never saw you prettier or more engaging in your life than
you were that day," she said evasively, as if trying to pique me.
"And you flirted so much, too! And everybody admired you so.
Everybody on the grounds... especially one person!"

I looked up at her in surprise. I was in my own room, seated by the
dressing-table, late at night, when we'd gone up to bed; and Minnie
was beside me, standing up, with her bedroom candle in that pretty
white little hand of hers.

"What do you mean?" I exclaimed eagerly. "Was it a dance--or a
picnic?"

"Oh, you know very well," Minnie went on teasingly, "though you
pretend you forget. HE was there, don't you know. You must remember
HIM, if you've forgotten all the rest of your previous life. You say
you remember the appropriate emotions. Well, he was an emotion: at
least, you thought so. It was an Athletic Club Meeting: and Dr. Ivor
was there. He went across on his bicycle."

I gave a start of surprise. Minnie looked down at me half
maliciously.

"There, you see," she said archly again, "at Dr. Ivor you change
colour. I told you you'd remember him!"

I grew pale with astonishment.

"Minnie dear," I said, holding her hands very tight in my own, "it
wasn't that, I assure you. I've forgotten him, utterly. If ever I
knew a Dr. Ivor, if ever I flirted with him, as you seem to imply,
he's gone clean out of my head. His name stirs no chord--recalls
absolutely nothing. But I want to know