Chapter XV: The Beautiful Face of Isabel

“When did Isabel Benton first make her appearance in the household?”

“About a year ago--perhaps a little more.”

“Who recommended her?”

“I do not know. She came one afternoon and entered at once upon her duties. Nobody offered me any word of explanation and I sought none.”

“Naturally. Did her duties conflict with yours at all?”

“Not at all. I attended my mistress’ person. Isabel was more of a waiting maid, constantly in attendance. My duties were in the bedchamber and with the wardrobe; hers were entirely general.”

“Still you were jealous.”

“I suppose so. I thought Isabel unnecessary. There was nothing to do that I could not attend to.”

“Exactly. Isabel is rather beautiful, as I remember her. I saw her, I think, when I was there.”

“Yes; she is very beautiful--for a maid.”

“I did not talk with her at all, so you must tell me how she appeared. I got the impression that she looked rather above her station; did she appear that way at all?”

“Yes; I think she did.”

“How?”

“She is an educated young woman. I think, sir, that she had seen better days.”

“You think, then, that she had not always been a maid?”

“I think she had never been a maid to anybody until she came there to serve.”

“Ah! I see. Rather that she was one who had enjoyed being waited upon instead of performing the part of a servant herself.”

“Exactly that, sir. I would like to ask you, sir, if you looked at her very closely when you were at the Fells?”

“No; I barely noticed her at all.”

“Then, perhaps, you did not notice that there was really a striking resemblance between her and Miss Mercedes.”

“I certainly did not.”

“You saw enough of her to remark that she was beautiful.”

“Yes; but it was a fleeting glance in the half-light of the drawing-room when I happened to meet her in the doorway. I merely caught a glimpse of her face. It was her poise and figure that attracted my attention, as well as the delicate profile of her face.”

“Then you would not notice the resemblance, for it was not observable in her profile.”

“But you think there was a resemblance?”

“A decided one, sir, when you got the correct view, and that was straight in front. But I noticed it on one occasion particularly, and I gave her a severe scolding at the time, too.”

“When and how was that?”

“I found her dressed in one of Miss Mercedes’ party dresses once. Miss Mercedes had gone to a reception in the city, and the other members of the family were also away from home. By a strange chance very few of the servants were in the house, and I was, myself, supposed to be attending my mistress in New York. But it happened that I was taken with a headache at the last moment, and, instead of going to the city, was sent to my room to rest. At nine o’clock in the evening I awoke from a long sleep, and, feeling much better, went down the stairs to the library to find something to read. I had to pass through the drawing-room on my way to the library, and you may imagine my surprise when I entered to see--as I supposed--my mistress standing before one of the long mirrors in the room.

“The carpet is very thick and soft, and she did not hear me as I approached behind her, so that I had a good view of her face in the mirror, and, Mr. Carter, I actually believed it to be Miss Mercedes--until she spoke.

“I uttered an exclamation of surprise at finding her there, whereupon she wheeled like lightning and confronted me. Even then the resemblance was so startling that I was not sure that she was not my mistress; but she saw that she was fairly caught, and she burst into tears, which she probably knew would be the surest way of winning me over to promise that I would not betray her.”

“And she did win you over so that you never spoke of the circumstance, I suppose?” said the detective.

“I have never spoken of it till now, sir.”

“Tell me what she said at the time, in explanation of her conduct.”

“I don’t remember much that she said, sir. She talked a steady stream for half an hour, and it was chiefly about there having been a time when she had finery of her own, and was a welcome guest at receptions such as the one where our mistress had gone. The dress she had put on was one which I had brought out for Miss Mercedes to wear, but which she had laid aside for another that she preferred. It had not been laid away again--was, in fact, on the bed when Isabel found it, and determined to see how she would appear with it. I was sorry for her. She could wheedle anybody with her voice.”

“Ah! Her voice. Tell me about that.”

“Her voice is very soft and low. Not like any other voice I ever heard, and yet, strangely enough, always remindful of a voice you have heard somewhere. Don’t you know voices of that kind, sir?”

“Yes; I think I know what you mean. What was her manner, generally, in the house? Did she offend the other servants, or did they like her?”

“I think they all loved her, sir. I was the only one who distrusted her--and I could not tell you why I did so, either.”

“Because you were jealous of her, doubtless.”

“I think so. I think that was the only reason. I know, at least, that it is the only reason that I can give.”

“Did your mistress like her? Did she seem fond of her?”

“Yes--and no. Sometimes I thought she was fond of her, and there were times when I had an idea that she disliked her.”

“Describe one of the occasions when you had reason to think that your mistress disliked Isabel.”

“Miss Mercedes and I came in from the garden, together, through the side door, and we passed through the library into the drawing-room to leave some flowers in one of the vases there. Isabel was standing in the embrasure of one of the windows, in conversation with Mr. Orizaba. Miss Mercedes called to her, and ordered her to her room at once. Then she sent me out of the room, and I know that she said some sharp things to her cousin----”

“But Orizaba was not her cousin.”

“He was in a way, sir. A sixth or seventh cousin. She always spoke of him as her cousin. Later, she came to her room and rang for Isabel, and I heard her tell her that one more circumstance of that kind would incur instant dismissal from her service. That is all I heard her say about it, but the flash of Miss Mercedes’ eyes at the time made me think that underneath it all she heartily disliked Isabel. I may have been mistaken.”

“Did you often see Isabel and Orizaba together?”

“Quite often, sir. There was always a glance of mutual meaning between them when they believed themselves unobserved--and once, quite late at night, when I had stolen out of the house to the hammock when the others were in their beds, I saw them talking together on the piazza.”

“Now let us get back to the moment you returned to the Fells after your errand to the city. When you stepped forward to speak to your mistress, who was already in the carriage, was Isabel also there--in the carriage?”

“Why--yes, sir.”

“Are you sure? Did you see her?”

“Of course, I saw her.”

“I mean, did you see her face so that you recognized it, or did you only suppose it to be her, because of the circumstance? Think, now, and reply carefully.”

“Why, I have always been certain that it was Isabel, sir.”

“Did she not also wear a veil?”

“I really do not know, sir.”

“In other words, you did not really look at her at all. You had eyes only for your beloved mistress. Is that not true?”

“Perhaps it is.”

“What carriage was it--an open one?”

“No, sir. The big coupé.”

“Did you speak to Isabel, or did she address any word to you at that time?”

“No. I think not. I was so surprised, so disturbed, and I will confess, sir, so angry, that I do not remember much about the circumstance, only that Miss Mercedes was going away without me, and that she bade me good-by so coldly that it almost broke my heart.”

“So, as a matter of fact, you do not really know that Isabel was in the coupé at all?”

“Why, yes, I do.”

“Well, how do you know it? That is what I want to find out.”

“Why, who else would be there if she was not?”

“Exactly; who else, indeed?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, sir?”

“No; I suppose you do not. Now what was the first thing you did after you entered the house, when they had driven away?”

“I went to my own room, threw myself on the bed, and cried.”

“To be sure. Sarah, do you happen to remember if, during the few days that immediately preceded her departure, there had been a strange woman in the house, in any capacity?”

“There was a woman who came to do some light sewing--some hemming of linen, I think; but she went away Saturday evening.”

“How do you know that she went away Saturday evening? Did you see her go?”

“No. I heard my mistress dismiss her.”

“Now, Sarah, just two or three more questions, and then you may return to the Fells.”