him."

The woman was trembling. She seemed for the moment to have no words.

"If you like," Wilhelmina continued calmly, "I will ask it for you. Did
you know, Mr. Macheson, that Letty Foulton has left home and has gone
away without a word to her mother?"

"I did not know it," Macheson answered gravely. "I am very sorry."

"You--didn't know it? You don't know where she is?" the woman demanded
fiercely.

"Certainly not," Macheson answered. "How should I?"

The woman looked bewildered. She turned towards Wilhelmina as though for
an explanation.

"Mr. Macheson has himself to blame," Wilhelmina said, "if his action in
bringing your daughter to me that night has been misunderstood. At any
rate, he cannot refuse to tell you now what he refused to tell me. You
understand, Mr. Macheson," she added, turning towards him, "Mrs. Foulton
insists upon knowing with whom you found her daughter having supper that
night in London."

Macheson hesitated only for a moment.

"Your daughter was with Mr. Stephen Hurd, Mrs. Foulton," he said.

The woman threw her apron over her head and hastened away. They heard
her sobbing in the kitchen. Wilhelmina shrugged her shoulders.

"What a bore!" she remarked. "We shan't get any tea. People of this sort
have no self-control."

Macheson looked at her sternly.

"Have the people here," he asked, "been connecting me with this child's
disappearance?"

"I suppose so," she answered carelessly. "Rather a new line for you,
isn't it--the gay Lothario! It's your own fault. You shouldn't be so
mysterious."

"You didn't believe it?" he said shortly.

"Why not? You've been--seeing life lately, haven't you?"

"You didn't believe it?" he repeated, keeping his eyes fixed upon her.

She came over to him and laid her hands upon his shoulders. Her pale
face was upturned to his. It seemed open to him to transform her
attitude into a caress.

"Of course not, dear," she answered. "If--any one else did, they will
soon know the truth."

"All the same," he muttered, "it's horrible. We must do something!"

She moved away from him wearily. His thoughts were full of the tragedy
of Letty Foulton's disappearance. He seemed scarcely to know that she
had been almost in his arms. He turned to her suddenly.

"I shall go back," he said, "to speak once more with Stephen Hurd."

She looked into his face and saw things there which terrified her. He
had moved already towards the door, but she stood in his way.