The Classic Mystery Collection - Arthur Conan Doyle [5888]
And so Viola was afraid.
The letters were held together with an elastic band, and this gave some hope.
"If they were from a woman, he wouldn't have used a rubber band on them," reasoned Viola. "He was too sentimental for that. They can't be mother's letters - they were in another compartment. I wonder - "
Viola had done much wondering since her mother's death, and considerable of it had been due to the life her father led. That he would marry again she doubted, but he was fond of the society of the men, and particularly the women of their own set, and some sets with which Viola preferred to have nothing to do.
And if Mr. Carwell had no intentions of marrying again, then his interest in women -
But here Viola ceased wondering.
With a more resolute air she reached forth hand to the bundle of letters and took one out. There was distinct relief in her manner as she quickly turned to the signature and read: "Gerry Poland."
And then, quickly, she ascertained that all the letters comprised correspondence between her father and the yacht club captain.
"But why did he hide these letters away?" mused Viola. "They seem to be about business, as the others were - the others showing that Captain Poland perhaps saved my father from financial ruin. Why should they be under the false bottom of the drawer?"
She could not answer that question.
"I must read them all," she murmured, and she went through the entire correspondence. There were several letters, sharp in tone, from both men, and the subject was as Greek to Viola. But there was one note from the captain to her father that brought a more vivid color to her dark cheeks, for Captain Poland had written:
"You care little for what I have done for you, otherwise you would not so oppose my attentions to your daughter. They are most honorable, as you well know, yet you are strangely against me. I can not understand it."
"Oh!" murmured Viola. "It is as if I were being bargained for! How I hate him!"
Almost blinded by her tears she read another letter. It was another appeal to her father to use his influence in assisting the captain's suit.
But this letter - or at least that portion of it relating to Viola - had been torn, and all that remained was:
"As members of the same lo- "
"What can that have meant?" she mused. "Is it the word 'lodge'?"
She read on, where the letter was whole again:
"I must ask you to reconsider your actions. Let me hear from you by the twenty-third or - "
Again was that mystifying and tantalizing tear. Viola hastily searched among the other letters, hoping the missing pieces might be found.
"I simply must see what it meant," she said. "I wonder if they can be in another part of the safe? I'm going to look!"
She started for her bath robe, and, at that moment, with a suddenness that unnerved her, there came a knock on her door.
CHAPTER XVII
OVER THE TELEPHONE
Viola's first movement was of concealment - to toss over the scattered letters on her desk a lace shawl she had been wearing earlier in the evening. Then satisfied that should the unknown knocker prove to be some one whom she might admit - her Aunt Mary or one of the maids - satisfied that no one would, at first glance, see the letters which might mean nothing or much, Viola asked in a voice that slightly trembled:
"Who is it?"
"I did not mean to disturb you," came the answer, and with a sense of relief Viola recognized the voice of Colonel Ashley. "But I have jus returned from New York, and, seeing a light under your door, I thought I would-report, as it were."
"Oh, thank you-thank you!" the girl exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" the colonel went on, as he stood outside the closed door. "Has anything happened since I went away?"
"No - no," said Viola, rather hesitatingly. "There is nothing new to tell you. I was sitting up - reading."
Her glance went to the desk where the letters