e letter were reported by the doctor and the
nurse to be also the names on her lips when she spoke in her wanderings.
"Mr. Brinkworth" and "Blanche"--her mind ran incessantly on those two
persons. The one intelligible thing that she mentioned in connection
with them was the letter. She was perpetually trying, trying, trying to
take that unfinished letter to the post; and she could never get there.
Sometimes the post was across the sea. Sometimes it was at the top of an
inaccessible mountain. Sometimes it was built in by prodigious walls all
round it. Sometimes a man stopped her cruelly at the moment when she was
close at the post, and forced her back thousands of miles away from it.
She once or twice mentioned this visionary man by his name. They made it
out to be "Geoffrey."

Finding no clew to her identity either in the letter that she had tried
to write or in the wild words that escaped her from time to time, it was
decided to search her luggage, and to look at the clothes which she had
worn when she arrived at the hotel.

Her black box sufficiently proclaimed itself as recently purchased. On
opening it the address of a Glasgow trunk-maker was discovered inside.
The linen was also new, and unmarked. The receipted shop-bill was found
with it. The tradesmen, sent for in each case and questioned, referred
to their books. It was proved that the box and the linen had both been
purchased on the day when she appeared at the hotel.

Her black bag was opened next. A sum of between eighty and ninety pounds
in Bank of England notes; a few simple articles belonging to the toilet;
materials for needle-work; and a photographic portrait of a young
lady, inscribed, "To Anne, from Blanche," were found in the bag--but no
letters, and nothing whatever that could afford the slightest clew by
which the owner could be traced. The pocket in her dress was searched
next. It contained a purse, an empty card-case, and a new handkerchief
unmarked.

Mr. Camp shook his head.

"A woman's luggage without any letters in it," he said, "suggests to
my mind a woman who has a motive of her own for keeping her movements
a secret. I suspect she has destroyed her letters, and emptied her
card-case, with that view." Mrs. Karnegie's report, after examining the
linen which the so-called "Mrs. Graham" had worn when she arrived at
the inn, proved the soundness of the lawyer's opinion. In every case the
marks had been cut out. Mrs. Karnegie began to doubt w