disappointed."

She studied her visitor for a moment carefully. Then she turned to the
table by her side, picked up a note and read it through.

"Lord Southover tells me here," she said, "that you are just a pal of
his who wants to make my acquaintance. He doesn't say why."

"Is that necessary?" Francis asked good-naturedly.

She moved in her chair a little nervously, crossing and uncrossing her
legs more than once. Her white silk stockings underneath her black
skirt were exceedingly effective, a fact of which she never lost
consciousness, although at that moment she was scarcely inspired to play
the coquette.

"I'd like to think it wasn't," she admitted frankly.

"I've seen you repeatedly upon the stage," he told her, "and, though
musical comedy is rather out of my line, I have always admired you
immensely."

She studied him once more almost wistfully.

"You look very nice," she acknowledged, "but you don't look at all the
kind of man who admires girls who do the sort of rubbish I do on the
stage."

"What do I look like?" he asked, smiling.

"A man with a purpose," she answered.

"I begin to think," he ventured, "that we shall get on. You are really a
very astute young lady."

"You are quite sure you're not one of these amateur detectives one reads
about?" she demanded.

"Certainly not," he assured her. "I will confess that I am interested
in Victor Bidlake's death, and I should like to discover the truth about
it, but I have a reason for that which I may tell you some day. It has
nothing whatever to do with the young man himself. To the best of my
belief, I never saw or heard of him before in my life. My interest lies
with another person. You have lost a great friend, I know. If you felt
disposed to tell me the whole story, it might make such a difference."

She sighed. Her confidence was returning--also her self-pity. The latter
at once betrayed itself.

"You see," she confided, "Victor and I were engaged to be married, so
naturally I let him help me a little. I shan't be able to stay on here
now. They are bothering me about their bill already," she added, with a
side-glance at an envelope which stood on a table by her side.

He drew a little nearer to her.

"Miss Hyslop--" he began.

"Daisy," she interrupted.

"Miss Daisy Hyslop, then," he continued, smiling, "I suggested just now
that I did not want to come and bother you for information without any
return. If I can be of any assistance to