my visitor, although unusually large and brilliant, were
totally different in shape, being long and narrow, and apparently of a
wonderful amber color.

When she spoke her voice was very cultured and soft; yet I started and
I know I must have been staring very hard and very rudely. There was a
faint huskiness in its tone, a caress in its accents, which
irresistibly reminded me of the scene in my study which had resulted,
in the loss of the image of Bast.

I think I have already indicated that I am one of those who arrive at
a decision somewhat laboriously; and now convinced that my memory of
the luminous eyes was threatening to become an obsession, so that I
looked to find them blazing out at me from the face of every stranger
whom I encountered, I forced myself to believe that a chance
resemblance in my visitor's voice to the voice of that other visitor
had tricked me.

"Mr. Addison," she said, "I'm afraid you will think this call somewhat
unconventional, but"--she paused almost imperceptibly--"I am staying
at Friar's Park, and Lady Coverly has heard from Dr. Greefe that you
wish to see the house."

"Really," I murmured, "it was good of you to take so much trouble,
but--"

"It was no trouble at all," she declared. "I had occasion to come this
way and Lady Coverly asked me to call and tell you that whilst she is
not well enough to receive visitors, you are quite welcome to inspect
the older parts of the house."

"I am much indebted," I said.

Having so spoken, I ceased and was aware of a kind of embarrassment.
For whilst I was naturally anxious to avoid unpleasant suspicions
regarding a lady who apparently had gone out of her way to perform an
act of courtesy, yet I could not place this elegant figure in the
household of Friar's Park as that household had been depicted by my
old gossip of "The Threshers."

I mentally determined there and then to question Martin, and if
possible Hawkins, upon the point, directly an opportunity arose, and
the former immediately my visitor had departed. But she seemed to be
in no hurry to depart.

"You have never visited this neighborhood before?" she continued, in
the soft, caressing voice which persistently awakened memories of that
evening in my cottage.

She re-seated herself upon the sofa, leaving me no alternative but to
sit down in the only chair which the coffee-room boasted. I could not
fail to notice, however, that although she addressed me as Mr.
Addison, she did