display those qualities of character which
hitherto were supposed to be peculiarly masculine. It was perhaps owing
to her advocacy of these claims that Miss Willoughby felt herself called
upon to display self-possession and self-control at a trying time.
Colwyn, appraising her with his clear eye as Sir Henry introduced him,
found himself speculating as to the reasons which had caused Penreath
and her to fall in love with one another.

"Please sit down, Mr. Colwyn," said Mrs. Brewer, resuming a comfortable
arm-chair in front of the fire, and adjusting the Pekingese on her lap.
"I am so grateful to you for coming to see us in this unconventional
way. I have been so anxious to see you! Everybody has heard of you, Mr.
Colwyn--you're so famous. It was only the other day that I was reading a
long article about you in some paper or other. I forget the name of the
paper, but I remember that it said a lot of flattering things about you
and your discoveries in crime. It said----Oh, you naughty, naughty
Jellicoe." This to the dog, which had become entangled in the skein of
wool on her lap, and was making frantic efforts to free itself. "Bad
little doggie, you've ruined this sock, and some poor soldier will have
to go with bare feet because you've been naughty! Are you a judge of
Pekingese, Mr. Colwyn? Don't you think Jellicoe a dear?"

"Do you mean Sir John Jellicoe, Mrs. Brewer?"

"Of course not! I mean my Pekingese. I've named him after our great
gallant commander, because it is through him we are all able to sleep
safe and sound in our beds these dreadful nights."

"Sir John Jellicoe ought to feel flattered," said Colwyn gravely.

"Yes, I really think he should," replied Mrs. Brewer innocently.
"Jellicoe is not a pretty name for a dog, but I think we should all be
patriotic just now. But tell me what you think of this dreadful case,
Mr. Colwyn. I am so frightfully distressed about it that I really don't
know what to do. How could Mr. Penreath do such a shocking thing? Why
didn't he go back to the front, if he had to kill somebody, instead of
hiding away from everybody and murdering this poor old man in this wild
spot? Such a disgrace to us all!"

"Mr. Penreath has been in the Army, then?" asked Colwyn.

"Of course. Didn't you know? He was in Mesopotamia, but was sent to the
West Front recently, where he won the D.S.O. for an act of great
gallantry under heavy fire, but was shortly afterwards invalided out of
the Army. It