h soprano note beyond the powers of a Tetrazzini.

It was a Fairy who told me that Mount Washington is bare because he gave
his green velvet mantle to a smaller mountain, though he, at his cold
height, needed it much more than his smaller brethren of the
Presidential Range. And from a Fairy, too (after we had passed the wide
wonder of Crawford's Notch), I heard the story of Nance's Brook. It is
the gayest of all the gay brooks of the mountains, so evidently it has
forgotten Nance and ceased to mourn her. But she--a beautiful girl of
the neighbourhood--drowned herself there when her lover went off with a
town beauty. The brook used to be the Fairies' favourite bathing-place,
and they could enter from a secret corridor in their sapphire-fronted
palace. Of course they could no longer use it after the drowning; but
they cased the body of Nance in crystal, like a fly in amber; and there,
under the running water, her face can sometimes be seen on midsummer
nights.

Thus, Mercedes, ends your Molly's diary, for we have come to Bretton
Woods!

XXVII

EDWARD CASPIAN TO DANIEL WINTERTON THE MANAGER OF A DETECTIVE AGENCY IN
NEW YORK

_Bretton Woods._

SIR:

I have received your letter and telegram, and am glad to find that you
have a better opinion of my deductions than was held by your confrere,
Mr. Moyle. The longer I dwell on the idea the more does it appear that
circumstantial evidence all points one way. Why should this unimportant
and poor young man have an influence so extraordinary over Marcel
Moncourt? More than one millionaire would have given a fortune to
Moncourt for less work than he is doing at Kidd's Pines practically for
nothing. It is known that he spoiled his son and brought him up with the
airs of a prince who might succeed to a throne. It is known also that
the son went abroad directly after old Stanislaws' sudden death. The
story is a family scandal; but I have woven together a few of the
threads and can put them into your hands, which may help you to speed
along your inquiries.

At that time I was not on intimate terms with my relatives. My sphere,
in fact, did not touch theirs. I never saw Moncourt's son, but I have
heard him described as dark, tall, and somewhat distinguished looking.
This might also be a flattered description of the man in question.

I think I had better mention, in the same connection, an event which has
just occur