"A most unlikely person," Aynesworth remarked smiling. "Do you remember,
when we went down to Tredowen just before we left for America, a little,
long-legged, black-frocked child, whom we met in the gardens--the
organist's daughter, you know?"

"What of her?" Wingrave asked.

"It was she who was with me," Aynesworth remarked. "It was she who saw
you in the box with the Marchioness of Westchester."

Aynesworth was puzzled by the intentness with which Wingrave was
regarding him. Impenetrable though the man was, Aynesworth, who had not
yet lost his early trick of studying him closely, knew that, for some
reason or other, his intelligence had proved disturbing.

"Have you then--kept up your acquaintance with this child?" he demanded.

Aynesworth shook his head.

"She is not a child any longer, but a very beautiful young woman," he
said. "I met her again quite by accident. She is up in London, studying
art at the studio of an old friend of mine who has a class of girls. I
called to see him the other afternoon, and recognized her."

"Your acquaintance," Wingrave remarked, "has progressed rapidly if she
accepts your escort--to the gallery of the Opera!"

"It was scarcely like that," Aynesworth explained. "I met her and Mrs.
Tresfarwin on the way there, and asked to be allowed to accompany them.
Mrs. Tresfarwin was once your housekeeper, I think, at Tredowen."

"And did you solve the mystery of this relation of her father who turned
up so opportunely?" Wingrave asked.

Aynesworth shook his head.

"She told me nothing about him," he answered.

Wingrave passed on to his own room. His breakfast was on the table
awaiting him, and a little pile of letters and newspapers stood by his
plate. His servant, his head groom, and his chauffeur were there to
receive their orders for the morning. About him were all the evidences
of his well-ordered life. He sent both the men away and locked the
door. It was half an hour before he touched either his breakfast or his
letters....

He lunched at Westchester House in obedience to a somewhat imperative
summons. There were other guests there, whom, however, he outstayed. As
soon as they were alone, his hostess touched him on the arm and led him
to her own room.

"At last!" she exclaimed, with an air of real relief. "There, sit down
opposite to me, please--I want to watch your face."

She was a little paler than usual, and he noticed that she had avoided
talking much to him at lun