Her eyes blazed with wrath as she faced him.

"So here you are!" she cried furiously. "How dare you disregard my orders? I will have no reporters on the grounds!"

"I'm only a photographer," Salt said meekly enough. "Sorry to intrude but I've been a.s.signed to get a picture of the bride. It won't take a minute--"

"Indeed it won't," Mrs. Kippenberg broke in, her voice rising higher.

"You'll take no pictures here. Not one! Now get out."

"A picture might be better than a story that the bridegroom had skipped out," Salt said persuasively.

"Why, you--you!" Mrs. Kippenberg's face became fiery red. She choked as she tried to speak. "Get out, I say!"

Salt did not retreat. Instead he took his camera from his pocket.

"Just one picture, Mrs. Kippenberg. At least of you."

Realizing that the photographer meant to take it whether or not she gave permission, the woman suddenly lost all control over her temper.

"Don't you dare!" she cried furiously. "Don't you dare!"

Whirling about, she seized an empty plate from the tall stack on the serving table.

"Hold that pose!" chortled Salt, goading her on.

The woman hurled the plate straight at him. Salt gleefully snapped a picture and dodged. The plate crashed into the wall behind him, splintering into a half dozen pieces.

"Swell action picture!" he grinned.

"Don't you dare try to use it!" screamed Mrs. Kippenberg. "I'll telephone your editor! I'll have you discharged!"

"See here," offered the usher, taking out his wallet. "I'll give you ten dollars for that picture."

Salt shook his head, still smiling broadly.

The sound of the crash had brought servants running to the scene.

"Have this person ejected from the grounds," Mrs. Kippenberg ordered harshly. "And see that he doesn't get back."

Just outside the house, Penny huddled against the wall, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She had heard everything. As Salt backed out the door he did not glance at her but he muttered for her ears alone:

"You're on your own now, kid. I'll be waiting at the drawbridge."

An instant later two servants seized him roughly by the arms and escorted him down the walk to the boat landing.

CHAPTER 6 _A RING OF WHITE GOLD_

Penny waited anxiously, but Mrs. Kippenberg did not come to the outside door. Nor had it occurred to the two servants that the girl was connected in any way with the photographer.

"On my own," she repeated to herself. "On my own with a vengeance."

Salt had his picture and it was up to her to get a good story. Until now she had depended upon his guidance. With all support withdrawn she suddenly felt uncertain and incompetent.

Penny waited a few minutes before gathering sufficient courage to enter the long hallway. One glance a.s.sured her that the breakfast room was deserted.

"Mrs. Kippenberg probably went upstairs to talk with her daughter," she reasoned. "I'd like to hear what they say to each other."

With the guests a.s.sembled in the garden, only a few persons lingered in the house. No one paid heed to Penny as she moved noiselessly up the spiral stairway.

A bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Hearing a low murmur of voices, Penny paused. Framed against the leaded windows she saw Sylvia Kippenberg talking with her mother. Despite a tear-streaked face the girl was very lovely. She wore a long flowing gown of white satin and the flowers at the neckline were outlined with real pearls. Her net veil had been discarded. A bouquet of flowers lay on the floor.

"How could Grant do such a cruel thing?" Penny heard her sob. "I just can't believe it of him, Mother. Surely he will come."

Mrs. Kippenberg held the girl in her arms, trying to comfort her.

"It is nearly three now, Sylvia. The servants have searched everywhere. A man of his type isn't worthy of you."

"But I love him, Mother. And I am sure he loves me. It doesn't seem possible he would do such a thing without a word of explanation."

"He will explain, never fear," Mrs. Kippenberg said grimly. "But now, we must think what has to be done. The guests must be told."

"Oh, Mother!" Sylvia went into another paroxysm of crying.

"There is no other way, my dear. Leave everything to me."

Before Penny realized that the interview had ended, Mrs. Kippenberg stepped out into the hall. Her eyes focused hard upon the girl.

"You are a reporter!" she accused harshly. "I remember, you were with that photographer!"

"Please--" began Penny.

"I'll tell you nothing," the woman cried. "How dare you intrude in my home and go about listening at bedroom doors!"

"Mrs. Kippenberg, if only you will calm yourself, I may be able to help you."

"Help me?" the woman demanded. "What do you mean?"

"I may be able to give you a clue as to what became of Grant Atherwald."

The anger faded from Mrs. Kippenberg's face. She came close to Penny, grasping her arm with a pressure which hurt.

"You have seen him? Tell me!"

"He came over in the same boat."

"How long ago was that?"