and addressing the
millionaire's butler, told him frankly that I was in search of
information concerning the dark-haired young lady who had been guest
up at the villa about three months ago.

"Oh! I suppose you mean Miss Thurston--the young American lady, don't
you? But she's fair-haired!"

"The lady I mean is named Engledue," I replied.

"Oh! I don't know anyone of that name," was his reply. "Miss Thurston
has stayed with us in London and down in Cornwall, and has been here
several times. I fancy she's some relation of the mistress's. She
first came to stay about three years ago, when she left school in
Paris. Then she went home to America, and after six months came back
again to us."

"You haven't any idea who her parents are--or where she lived in
America?"

"She lived somewhere near Detroit, I believe. That's all I know about
her. I believe her people are motor-car makers and extremely wealthy.
At least, somebody said so--and she's very free with tips to the
under-servants."

"When did she leave here?"

"When the master went to London. I was to go too, but I had influenza
and had to remain here."

"And where was Mrs. De Gex?" I inquired.

"She was already at Stretton Street. She and the little boy went to
London early in October, but came back at the end of the month."

Then I questioned the estimable Robertson concerning the domestic
happiness of his master. I said I had heard rumours in London of
matrimonial differences.

"Well, that's a lie," he replied quickly. "There isn't a pair in the
whole of London Society who are more devoted to each other."

This greatly surprised me after the words that had fallen from the
millionaire's lips.

Again I referred to the mysterious Gabrielle whom I described as
minutely as I was able, and apparently my description fitted that of
Rose Thurston, save for the colour of her hair.

"You have no idea where she is, I suppose?"

"Not the slightest. Back in America, perhaps. She seems to come over
every year."

"I wonder if you could find out her address?" I asked. "If you could,
it would be of very great service to me," and I handed him my card,
expressing a hope that he would refrain from mentioning the matter to
his master.

"I'll try," he said. "But I fear I shan't succeed. Mr. Henderson, the
master's secretary, would know, of course."

The point at issue now was whether the young American girl, who had
been the millionaire's guest at the villa, and Gabr