eld out her hand. Gualtier
tremblingly took it, and pressed it to his thin lips.

"This was all that I could discover. It was vague; it was only
partially satisfactory; but it was all. I soon perceived that it was
only a waste of time to stay in London; and after thinking of many
plans, I finally determined to visit the family of Lady Chetwynde
herself. Of course such an undertaking had to be carried out very
cautiously. I found out where the family lived, and went there. On
arriving I went to the Hall, and offered myself as music-teacher. It
was in an out-of-the-way place, and Sir Henry Furlong, Lady
Chetwynde's brother, happened to have two or three daughters who were
studying under a governess. When I showed him a certificate which the
Earl here was kind enough to give me, he was very much impressed by
it. He asked me all about the Earl and Chetwynde, and appeared to be
delighted to hear about these things. My stars were certainly lucky.
He engaged me at once, and so I had constant access to the place.

[Illustration: "'You Are Punctual, Said She At Last.'"]

"I had to work cautiously, of course. My idea was to get hold of some
of the domestics. There was an old fellow there, a kind of butler,
whom I propitiated, and gradually drew into conversations about the
family. My footing in the house inspired confidence in him, and he
gradually became communicative. He was an old gossip, in his dotage,
and he knew all about the family, and remembered when Lady Chetwynde
was born. He at first avoided any allusion to her, but I told him
long stories about the Earl, and won upon his sympathies so that he
told me at last all that the family knew about Lady Chetwynde.

"His story was this: Lord Chetwynde was busy in politics, and left
his wife very much to herself. A coolness had sprung up between them,
which increased every day. Lady Chetwynde was vain, and giddy, and
weak. The Redfield Lyttoun of whom I had heard in London was much at
her house, though her husband knew nothing about it. People were
talking about them every where, and he only was in the dark. At last
they ran away. It was known that they had fled to America. That is
the last that was ever heard of her. She vanished out of sight, and
her paramour also. Not one word has ever been heard about either of
them since. From which I conjecture that Redfield Lyttoun, when he
had become tired of his victim, threw her off, and came back to
resume his proper name, to