The next day 7 a.m. in the dining room...

"Good heavens!" Lady Edith exclaimed, surprising everyone from their 'half-asleep morning mode'.

"What is it?" The Countess asked, trying to see what was wrong.

"Spider!"

Her ladyship stared at her plate with wide eyes, a bit more frightened then need be.

"In your food?"

"No, right there!" Lady Edith corrected her, pointing to the tiniest spider Kathleen had ever seen. It was standing perfectly still right next to the plate and the Countess was sure she could kill it instantly by merely smashing it with her finger. Which is exactly what she did, much to Lady Edith's disgust.

Davie thought her Ladyship to be rather...Annoying, at times, but of course there wasn't much he could do about it, Lady Edith being of higher rank and all. She seemed to wear her feelings on her shoulders for everyone to see...And she certainly didn't think much of the Countess.

"Would you mind keeping the noise down," William asked, walking in through the door and sitting at the table.

"I've got a splitting headache and it hurts like the dickens himself."

"Well that is entirely your fault," General Dempsey told him.

"I think you had maybe one to many glasses of Champaign last night."

"You did have a fantastic bar, General," Lt. George Matthews complimented.

"My brother has always had a wonderful taste for spirits, I have to admit," Davie laughed.

"Why Davie, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"

"And if I know siblings, it'll be the last...These are very good vittles General," the Countess told him, taking a bite of her sausage.

"Do you have any siblings, Countess?" Davie asked.

"I told you to call me Kathleen...And yes, I do. Nine of them, to be precise."

"Oh my! How do your parents ever keep track of them?" Lady Edith inquired.

"I don't really know. Maybe someday they'll reveal their secret to me," Kathleen laughed.

"Well, I'm going to go get some fresh air," Colonel Thatcher said, getting up from the table and walking out the door.

"That's not such a bad idea," Kathleen said.

"If anyone wants me, I'll be in the garden."

          Davie walked down the hall slowly, just taking his time and looking at the tapestries. They were really fascinating things, tapestries. Each picture told parts of history, each stitch woven by hand....Just imagine how long those must have taken to make? Davie was a huge admirer of art, so of course, he noticed when hushed voices disturbed his thoughts. They were coming from the library which was usually empty, so Davie walked quietly toward the door and opened it ever so slightly, peaking through the crack to see Colonel Thatcher and the Countess standing by the big table. 

"I told you Thatcher, I hate parties...And I can't stand this dress! I've had almost all I can take!" The Countess threatened, turning toward the door. 

Davie immediately closed it as quietly as he could and ran down the hall on tiptoe, taking refuge in the garden. There was something different about the Countess that he couldn't quite pin point. Something was just a bit off. Obviously, there was a lot more to the Countess then what he knew about, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know about it.

He watched as the Countess stormed out of the room and down the hall, into her own bedroom. So she was upset; that much he could tell. He only wished that he had heard what they were talking about to begin with. Before now, Davie didn't even know that Colonel Thatcher had even become acquainted with the Countess.

"I'm clearly putting too much thought into this," he said out loud to himself, slumping down in a chair on the patio.

"Into what?" A voice came from the doorway.

Davie stood up abruptly as he realized it was the Countess.

"Oh sit down!" She said, walking over and sitting on the railing.

She was wearing pants and a long plaid shirt, her hair tied back with a ribbon, and most peculiarly, she was barefoot. Definitely not what a Countess would usually dress like.

"Oh, just something that my dad wanted me to do," Davie lied.

"What sort of thing?"

"He said if I ever went to London, I'd get him a souvenir...And I don't know what to get," that much was true.

"Are you not from London?"

"No. I come from a small town, quite far from here...So my parents never got the opportunity to see London for themselves."

"Well then I'm sure anything would do as a souvenir, don't you think?"

"Yeah but it woul-" Davie started, but he was cut off by a shrill screech.

The Countess immediately flew off the railing and ran into the house, following the long train of shouts and screams. The Mansion was filled with the sound of thundering floor boards as everyone came to find out what was wrong.

Davie didn't get there until after everyone was in the room, and he couldn't see properly through the crowd. He tried pushing his way through, and when he did, he saw the Countess bent over the body of Alice.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"It's Alice," Kathleen replied, looking up at him with a solemn expression.

"She's been killed."

- Again a short chapter, I know, but this is the best ending I could come up with. I hope this chapter was more satisfactory then the other, and if you liked it, don't forget to vote and comment. Thanks :D - Anna