nity. "Dress
is not one of my foibles. But after she had gone I picked up a
handkerchief which I suppose she had dropped. It was marked----"

"Wait!" said Mr. Hedderwick suddenly. "What is her name?" he asked,
turning to Beatrice.

"Whose, Robert?" queried his wife.

"Oh, bother!" he said, irritation lending him courage. "Your maid's."

"Mizzi Schmidt."

"And the initials, Alicia?"

"M. S."

Mr. Hedderwick, his head full of romantic notions of chivalry,
forgetting the urgent need of circumspection, rose. He advanced toward
Beatrice, raised her hand, and, to the horror of his wife, kissed it
solemnly. "I beg your pardon," he said; "there is no anticlimax. Now
that you know Mizzi is the thief you will want to be off. Good-by and
good luck."

They took him at his word and rose.

"Good-by," said Beatrice in the most ordinary voice. "Thank you so much
for your help--and yours, too, Mrs. Hedderwick. So sorry we had to break
into your house. Good-by. Now, Mr. Mortimer!"

"Good-by," said Lionel; "thanks most awfully. I felt you were a
sportsman as soon as I saw you."

They were in the hall by this time, and the magnanimous churchwarden was
already opening the door.

"Not at all," he said. "I've had a most interesting night. I wish you'd
let me know the end of the tale some day."

"If it is a happy ending, you shall," said Beatrice. She halted a
moment, motioned to Lionel to pass out before her, and then turned. "If
you see us again, be careful never to recognize or speak to us; it might
mean danger--not only to you, but us."

He smiled but said nothing. Beatrice and Lionel moved away in the light
of the early dawn. Mr. Hedderwick closed the door gently and stood deep
in thought for a moment. "What an adventure ... what a splendid
woman ... what a jolly chap!" his thoughts ran. "How different their life
from mine! Here am I, tied to the same holiday year after year ... afraid
to call my soul my own ... why, why should I not have a holiday on my own
account--a holiday ... by myself for once. Something new ... something
out of the common...."

"Robert!" said a threatening voice from the drawing-room, and he leaped.
"Come in! I have something to say to you!"

The tone told him what the "something" would be. His thoughts raced
furiously during the next twenty seconds, but he had wit enough to
answer, "Yes, Alicia! Wait till I have locked the door!" Then with a
swift but silent movement he slipped on a greatcoat