house provided them with recreation for the evening.

The day of disillusionment had been a Wednesday. On Thursday the
advertisement had duly appeared. On Friday letters might be expected to
arrive at Tommy's rooms.

He had been bound by an honourable promise not to open any such letters
if they did arrive, but to repair to the National Gallery, where his
colleague would meet him at ten o'clock.

Tuppence was first at the rendezvous. She ensconced herself on a red
velvet seat, and gazed at the Turners with unseeing eyes until she saw
the familiar figure enter the room.

"Well?"

"Well," returned Mr. Beresford provokingly. "Which is your favourite
picture?"

"Don't be a wretch. Aren't there ANY answers?"

Tommy shook his head with a deep and somewhat overacted melancholy.

"I didn't want to disappoint you, old thing, by telling you right off.
It's too bad. Good money wasted." He sighed. "Still, there it is. The
advertisement has appeared, and--there are only two answers!"

"Tommy, you devil!" almost screamed Tuppence. "Give them to me. How
could you be so mean!"

"Your language, Tuppence, your language! They're very particular at the
National Gallery. Government show, you know. And do remember, as I have
pointed out to you before, that as a clergyman's daughter----"

"I ought to be on the stage!" finished Tuppence with a snap.

"That is not what I intended to say. But if you are sure that you have
enjoyed to the full the reaction of joy after despair with which I have
kindly provided you free of charge, let us get down to our mail, as the
saying goes."

Tuppence snatched the two precious envelopes from him unceremoniously,
and scrutinized them carefully.

"Thick paper, this one. It looks rich. We'll keep it to the last and
open the other first."

"Right you are. One, two, three, go!"

Tuppence's little thumb ripped open the envelope, and she extracted the
contents.

"DEAR SIR,

"Referring to your advertisement in this morning's paper, I may be able
to be of some use to you. Perhaps you could call and see me at the above
address at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning.

"Yours truly,

"A. CARTER."

"27 Carshalton Gardens," said Tuppence, referring to the address.
"That's Gloucester Road way. Plenty of time to get there if we tube."

"The following," said Tommy, "is the plan of campaign. It is my turn to
assume the offensive. Ushered into the presence of Mr. Carter, he and I
wish each other go