nd into which he had been talking
ever since he thought it worth while to compliment its owner.

"I do not wish," said I, "to be published to the world as the discoverer
of Franklin Van Burnam's guilt. But I do want credit with the police, if
only because one of their number has chosen to look upon my efforts with
disdain. I mean you, Mr. Gryce; so, if you are in earnest"--he smiled at
the vase most genially--"I will accept your apologies just so far as you
honor me with your confidence. I know you are anxious to hear what
evidence I have collected, or you would not be wasting time on me this
busy morning."

"Shrewd!" was the short ejaculation he shot into the mouth of the vase
he was handling.

"If that term of admiration is intended for me," I remarked, "I am sure
I am only too sensible of the honor. But flattery has never succeeded in
making me talk against my better judgment. I may be shrewd, but a fool
could see what you are after this morning. Compliment me when I have
deserved it. I can wait."

"I begin to think that what you withhold so resolutely has more than
common value, Miss Butterworth. If this is so, I must not be the only
one to listen to your explanations. Is not that a carriage I hear
stopping? I am expecting Inspector Z----. If that is he you have been
wise to delay your communications till he came."

A carriage _was_ stopping, and it was the Inspector who alighted from
it. I began to feel my importance in a way that was truly gratifying,
and cast my eyes up at the portrait of my father with a secret longing
that its original stood by to witness the verification of his prophecy.

But I was not so distracted by these thoughts as not to make one attempt
to get something from Mr. Gryce before the Inspector joined us.

"Why do you speak to me of my maid in one breath and of a girl in gray
in another? Did you think Lena----"

"Hush!" he enjoined, "we will have ample opportunities to discuss this
subject later."

"Will we?" thought I. "We will discuss nothing till I know more
positively what you are aiming at."

But I showed nothing of this determination in my face. On the contrary,
I became all affability as the Inspector entered, and I did the honors
of the house in a way I hope my father would have approved of, had he
been alive and present.

Mr. Gryce continued to stare into the vase.

"Miss Butterworth,"--it was the Inspector who was speaking,--"I have
been told that you take great inter