Marie Belloc Lowndes

“ He said you were related to the Prince of Monaco—I never knew that, Aunt Cosy.”
“It is not a relationship which we have ever presumed upon,” said the Countess rather stiffly, but her face cleared somewhat, “though it is true that hundreds of years ago a Grimaldi married a Polda. Still, I am glad of what you tell me, Lily, and it will console your uncle for the painful ordeal he had to go through. You will understand why I feel so angry and, yes, so hurt, that you have brought this trouble upon us, when I tell you that your Uncle Angelo had the awful task of identifying the body!” ”

“ There was great relief in the Countess's voice. “I did not like to ask you, dear child, but, of course, I have had that painful memory in my mind all the time. To people like us there is something so strange in the love of strong drink. The first time that poor man came here he took a little too much, and I remonstrated with the Count—I begged him not to bring him again. But alas! Angelo has so kind a heart, and the poor fellow seemed so lonely.”
“I suppose one cannot help a guest having too much wine?” said Lily hesitatingly. ”

“ Ponting.”
“You know?” echoed Cristina amazed, and she turned a startled look on the girl's face.
“It was I who found the body and told the police,” the girl answered quietly. “But there is nothing to be frightened about, Cristina, though, of course, it is very, very sad.”
She was speaking in her usual clear voice, when suddenly the drawing-room opened and the Countess peeped out. Her face was dusky red, and convulsed with anger.
“What is all this noise?” she exclaimed in French; “we cannot hear ourselves speak!” ”