er her face, "that he would
not be guilty of any attempt to besmirch me. And no one else knew that I
was there--except--" A sudden startled look came over her face and she
looked involuntarily at Dick. "Except--" she said, and her voice trailed
off.

"Besides, these small acts are those of women," said the Swami placidly.
Dick had caught Madeline's look of astonished comprehension and he
turned pale as he saw. Now, with Ram Juna's words, conviction flashed
upon him. He remembered Lena's dislike for Madeline, of which he had
made light; he remembered the little insignificant woman whom he had met
in his wife's boudoir; the fact that he was Mr. Early's nearest neighbor
clapped assurance on suspicion, and his muddled mind was capable of only
one idea. No one else, least of all, Madeline, must suspect her little
meanness.

"Dick, you have an inkling," said Mr. Lenox abruptly, but in all
innocence.

"Not in the least," said Dick hurriedly. "I assure you that if I had the
slightest reason to suspect any one, I would be the first to speak.
I--you know I think everything of you, Madeline." He went toward her in
a futile way, with outstretched hand, but Madeline's eyes were down, and
apparently she did not see the friendly overture. His face looked pale,
strained and old as he stood for a moment before her, and the others
surveyed them in silence.

"As you say," said Dick, in sprightly fashion, "the best thing is to
forget the whole incident. Lenox, if you will give me those papers, I
must be off."

"Our lines lie parallel," said the Swami. "Will you permit that I walk
with you?"

The four who remained stood awkwardly during the departure, and with the
closing of the door, Mr. Lenox gave an inarticulate ejaculation.

"Miss Elton," he said, "I think your problem is solved."

"You mean it was Mrs. Percival?"

"You are as sure as I."

"And Dick knew," said Ellery. He blushed as he spoke.

"Oh no, Mr. Norris!" cried Madeline in sharp distress. "That would he
unendurable. And besides, he said he didn't."

"Dick lied," Ellery stated calmly.

"I will never believe that Dick would lie."

"He certainly lied," Ellery persisted. "Any man would lie to protect the
woman he loves."

"Never!" exploded Mrs. Lenox. "Frank, you would not lie for me!"

"Assuredly I would," her husband answered quietly, "if you needed lying
for."

She looked at him with speechless dismay.

"Therefore," Ellery went on, "it behooves a man to