ood
luck.

"All the same," Constance said, "I _should_ like to know how the things
were spirited out of the house, and where they are. It is the first
mystery that has ever come into our lives. I wish I were a clairvoyante.
It would be fun!"

"Did you ever hear of the Countess de Santiago, when you lived in
America?" asked Knight in his calm voice. He did not glance toward
Annesley, who sat at the other end of the table, but he must have guessed
that she would turn with a start of surprise on hearing the Countess's
name in this connection.

"The Countess de Santiago?" Connie echoed. "No. What about her? She
sounds interesting."

"She _is_ interesting. And beautiful." Everybody had stopped talking by
this time, to listen; and in the pause Knight appealed to his wife.
"That's not an exaggeration, is it, Anita?"

Annesley, wondering and somewhat startled, answered that the Countess de
Santiago was one of the most beautiful women she had seen.

This riveted the attention which Knight had caught. He had his audience,
and went on in a leisurely way.

"Come to think of it, she can't have been heard of in your part of the
world until you'd left for England," he told Constance. "She's the most
extraordinary clairvoyante I ever heard of. That's what made me speak of
her. Unfortunately she's not a professional, and won't do anything unless
she happens to feel like it. But I wonder if I could persuade her to look
in her crystal for you, Lady Annesley-Seton?

"She's an old acquaintance of mine," he went on, casually. "I met her
in Buenos Aires before her rich elderly husband died, about seven or
eight years ago. She was very young then. I came across her again in
California, when she was seeing the world as a free woman, after the old
fellow's death. Then I introduced her by letter to one or two people in
New York, and I believe she has been admired there, and at Newport.

"But I've only _heard_ all that," Knight hastened to explain. "I've been
too busy till lately to know at first hand what goes on in the 'smart' or
the artistic set. _My_ world doesn't take much interest in crystal-gazers
and palmists, amateur or professional, even when they happen to be
handsome women, like the Countess. But I ran against her again on board
the _Monarchic_ about a month ago, crossing to this side, and we picked
up threads of old acquaintance. She was staying at the Savoy when I left
London."

He paused a moment, and added:

"As a fa