of my best customers."

"She is not one of my worst, but the world is not _quite_ filled up with
Mrs. Grundys, else our fortunes were soon made; for instance, up at
Wardour Place to-night, that seraphic old lady was prepared to receive
all my statements, as Mrs. G---- takes your pills, on faith. But the
young lady; oh, no! she has too much head for a woman."

"Why, for a woman?"

"Not got scope enough. 'Woman's kingdom' too small for her; too much top
to her head; brow too broad; eyes too full; won't believe a thing is
true, because you say it is true; got to convince her reason. Such
people make chaps like you and me lots of bother; won't take us for
granted."

"Granted we wish them to."

"Bah! Of course we wish them to! everybody wants to be taken on trust;
but there, we can waive this discussion; Miss Wardour will find
occupation for that head of hers for a time at least. My head must
rest."

"I should think so; you are as full of whimsies as ever, when off duty,
and since to-night I accept you as a detective, _a la_ 'Mrs. Grundy,'
just follow me now, Sir Tramp. By the way, how will you get out of here
in the morning?"

"Leave that to me. By the way, don't disturb my wax work. I will leave
the bottle and linen; do you restore them to Miss Wardour to-morrow at
the earliest hour possible to a caller. I shall present myself in my own
time and way, governed, of course, by circumstances, and it is probable
that you will not see me again for some time. Therefore let me say,
thanks for your hospitality. Call on me when you want a service, and
good night."

So saying he vanishes into an inner room, the door of which the doctor
has just now thrown invitingly open. As the door closes quickly, and in
his very face, Clifford Heath stares blankly at it, and for a moment
stands so, looking half bewildered.

Finally a look of amusement crosses his face, and he returns slowly to
his seat beside the table, slowly selects a segar, and slowly lights it.

"There's a queer customer," muses he, as he settles himself for a
comfortable meditation. "He can go to sleep in the very teeth of
mystery, and wake up, clear headed, in a fog. Now I can't sleep, and
I've been awake longer than my allotted time, too. Shades of my
ancestors! What a day! And, oh, my prophetic soul, what will it bring
forth? Well, Doctor Clifford Heath, _as_ Doctor Clifford Heath, what is
it to you? You have been honored by the confidence of Constance Wardou