put the 'at-box in
the keb, sir--wishin' not to 'inder you."

"Thoughtful of you, I'm sure. But didn't the--ah--woman who keeps the
hat-shop mention the name of the--ah--person who purchased the hat?"

By the deepening of its corrugations, the forehead of Mrs. Gigg betrayed
the intensity of her mental strain. Her eyes wore a far-away look and
her lips moved, at first silently. Then--"I ain't sure, sir, as she did
nime the lidy, but _if_ she did, it was somethin' like Burnside, I
fancy--or else Postlethwayt."

"Nor Jones nor Brown? Perhaps Robinson? Think, Mrs. Gigg! Not Robinson?"

"I'm sure it may 'ave been eyether of them, sir, now you puts it to me
pl'in."

"That makes everything perfectly clear. Thank you so much."

With this, Staff turned hastily away, nodded to his driver to cut along,
and with groans and lamentations squeezed himself into what space the
bandbox did not demand of the interior of the vehicle.

III

TWINS

On the boat-train, en route for Liverpool, Mr. Staff found plenty of
time to consider the affair of the foundling bandbox in every aspect
with which a lively imagination could invest it; but to small profit. In
fact, he was able to think of little else, with the damned thing
smirking impishly at him from its perch on the opposite seat. He was
vexed to exasperation by the consciousness that he couldn't guess why or
by whom it had been so cavalierly thrust into his keeping. Consequently
he cudgelled his wits unmercifully in exhaustive and exhausting attempts
to clothe it with a plausible _raison d'etre_.

He believed firmly that the Maison Lucille had acted in good faith; the
name of Staff was too distinctive to admit of much latitude for error.
Nor was it difficult to conceive that this or that young woman of his
acquaintance might have sent him the hat to take home for her--thus
ridding herself of a cumbersome package and neatly saddling him with all
the bother of getting the thing through the customs. But ...! Who was
there in London just then that knew him well enough so to presume upon
his good nature? None that he could call to mind. Besides, how in the
name of all things inexplicable had anybody found out his intention of
sailing on the Autocratic, that particular day?--something of which he
himself had yet to be twenty-four hours aware!

His conclusions may be summed up under two heads: (a) there wasn't any
answer; (b) it was all an unmitigated nuisance. And so thinking,