abouts Oswald De Gex was
concealing from his friend, Mrs. Cullerton. But the one point which
puzzled me sorely was whether the girl walking in front of me all
unconscious of my presence was the same that I had seen dead at
Stretton Street, and for whom I had given a false certificate to cover
up what had evidently been a crime with malice aforethought.

The pair now and then became lost in the crowd of foot-passengers in
busy Kensington, but I followed them. Occasionally they paused to look
into Barker's shop windows, but the interest was evidently on the part
of the serving-woman, for Gabrielle Tennison--or whatever her actual
name--seemed to evince no heed of things about her. She walked like
one in a dream, with her thoughts afar off, yet her face was the
sweetest, most beautiful, and yet the saddest I had ever witnessed.
Tragedy was written upon her pale countenance, and I noticed that one
or two men and women in passing the pair turned to look back at them.
In that face of flawless beauty a strange story was written--a mystery
which I was strenuously seeking to solve.

Presently they entered Kensington Gardens, strolling along the
gravelled walks beneath the bare, leafless trees that were so black
with London's grime. The day was cold, but bright, hence quite a
number of persons were walking there, together with the usual crowd of
nursemaids with the children of the well-to-do from the Hyde Park and
Kensington districts.

The pair passed leisurely half-way up the Broad Walk, when they
presently rested upon a seat nearly opposite the great facade of
Kensington Palace.

I saw that I had not been noticed either by the old servant or by her
mysterious young mistress, therefore I sank quickly upon a seat some
distance away, but in such a position that I could still see them as
they talked together.

Was Gabrielle Engledue living--or was she dead? Or was Gabrielle
Tennison and Gabrielle Engledue one and the same person? A living face
is different from that of the same person when dead, hence the great
problem presenting itself.

It seemed as though in conversation the girl became animated, for she
gesticulated slightly as though in angry protest at some remark of her
companion, and then suddenly I had a great surprise.

Coming down the Broad Walk I saw a figure in a grey overcoat and soft
brown hat which I instantly recognized. He walked straight to where
the pair were seated, lifted his hat, and then seated him