s having the mother, too, which is a bit of a
trial, in a way, for I don't believe that her ladyship and Mrs.
Carruthers care very much for each other. But that's another story.
Now, then, let's see--where was I? Oh, ah! about the house party at
the Priory and Carruthers' fondness for the boy. You can judge of
my surprise, my dear Cleek, when last night's post brought me a
private letter from Lady Essington asking me to meet her here at
this inn--which, by the way, belongs to the Strathmere estate and
is run by a former servant at the Priory--and stating that she
wished me to bring one of the shrewdest and cleverest of my
detectives, as she was quite convinced there was an underhand scheme
afoot to injure his little lordship--in short, she had every
reason to believe that somebody was secretly attacking the life of
the Golden Boy. She then went on to give me details of a most
extraordinary and bewildering nature."

"Indeed? What were those details, Mr. Narkom?"

"Let her tell you for herself--here she is!" replied the
superintendent, as a veiled and cloaked figure moved hurriedly past
the window; and he and Cleek had barely more than pushed back their
chairs and risen when that figure entered the room.

A sweep of her hand carried back her veil; and Cleek, looking round,
saw what he considered one of the handsomest women he had ever
beheld: a good woman, too, for all her frivolous life and her dark
ancestry, if clear, straight-looking eyes could be taken as a proof,
which he knew that they could _not_; for he had seen men and women
in his day, as crafty as the fox and as dangerous as the serpent,
who could look you straight in the eyes and never flinch; while
others--as true as steel and as clean-lifed as saints--would send
shifting glances flicking all round the room and could no more fix
those glances on the face of the person to whom they were talking
than they could take unto themselves wings and fly.

But good or ill, whichever the future might prove this lovely lady
to be, one thing about her was certain: she was violently agitated,
and nervousness was making her shake perceptibly and breathe hard,
like a spent runner.

"It is good of you to come, Mr. Narkom," she said, moving forward
with a grace which no amount of excitement could dispel or
diminish--the innate grace of the woman _born_ to her station and
schooled by Mother Nature's guiding hand. "I had hoped that I might
steal away and come here to meet