leverer Grodman
was than her husband. When the pretty servant who waited on them was
momentarily out of the room, Grodman had remarked that she seemed very
inquisitive. This coincided with Mrs. Wimp's own convictions, though Mr.
Wimp could never be brought to see anything unsatisfactory or suspicious
about the girl, not even though there were faults in spelling in the
"character" with which her last mistress had supplied her.

It was true that the puss had pricked up her ears when Denzil
Cantercot's name was mentioned. Grodman saw it and watched her, and
fooled Wimp to the top of his bent. It was, of course, Wimp who
introduced the poet's name, and he did it so casually that Grodman
perceived at once that he wished to pump him. The idea that the rival
bloodhound should come to him for confirmation of suspicions against his
own pet jackal was too funny. It was almost as funny to Grodman that
evidence of some sort should be obviously lying to hand in the bosom of
Wimp's hand-maiden; so obviously that Wimp could not see it. Grodman
enjoyed his Christmas dinner, secure that he had not found a successor
after all. Wimp, for his part, contemptuously wondered at the way
Grodman's thought hovered about Denzil without grazing the truth. A man
constantly about him, too!

"Denzil is a man of genius," said Grodman. "And as such comes under the
heading of Suspicious Characters. He has written an Epic Poem and read
it to me. It is morbid from start to finish. There is 'death' in the
third line. I daresay you know he polished up my book." Grodman's
artlessness was perfect.

"No. You surprise me," Wimp replied. "I'm sure he couldn't have done
much to it. Look at your letter in the 'Pell Mell.' Who wants more
polish and refinement than that showed?"

"Ah, I didn't know you did me the honor of reading that."

"Oh, yes; we both read it," put in Mrs. Wimp. "I told Mr. Wimp it was
clever and cogent. After that quotation from the letter to the poor
fellow's _fiancee_ there could be no more doubt but that it was murder.
Mr. Wimp was convinced by it, too, weren't you, Edward?"

Edward coughed uneasily. It was a true statement, and therefore an
indiscreet. Grodman would plume himself terribly. At this moment Wimp
felt that Grodman had been right in remaining a bachelor. Grodman
perceived the humor of the situation, and wore a curious, sub-mocking
smile.

"On the day I was born," said Wimp's grandmother-in-law, "over a hundred
years ago