I don't know what ought to be done under the circumstances— and if Philippa doesn't appear at-at the-oh, how can I say the word?' faltered Augusta, with a fresh burst of tears- what will people say? Oh, it is dreadful to have no one-no one to take the responsibility off my hands!'

'Mr. Ash can settle all details about the funeral,' said Lady Sarah, without faltering at all.

There were no traces of tears about her shrunken yet handsome old face, but the waxen purity of her complexion was paler, and there was a curious ashen greyness about her sunken mouth and fine-cut nostrils that told of the shock she had suffered. Grief is often softened mysteriously to the very old, who have outlived the loss of many loved ones and have grown almost accustomed to the chill visitations of Death stealing about them on all sides, and leaving them at last alone in a world full of strangers and memories.

Lady Sarah's sardonic humour had not deserted her; she showed little more sympathy than usual with her granddaughterin-law, and would have died rather than relax her own self-control in Augusta's presence.

'Mr. Ash is quite a young man; he must have someone to direct him. I couldn't think of leaving it to him. And here is George Chilcott, poor Cecil's oldest friend and neighbour, shocked as he is as he must be-yet he can give his attention to nothing but this dreadful business of Philippa; and Colonel Moore is the same. They came down with Blanche and Bob from Ralte this morning. And the police in and out of the house; even I am being questioned and cross-examined as though I were a convict. Catherine seems to suspect everyone in turn of having made away with her daughter, especially Mme. Minart.'

'Pray, who is Mme. Minart?'

'My companion, who'

'Dear me! And since when have you found it necessary to start a companion?' said Lady Sarah, raising her eyebrows in affected surprise.

'Oh, grandmamma! you must remember I told you a fortnight ago she was coming; and here she was so attached to Philippa, poor thing, following her about from morning till night, and never letting her out of her sight. No one can say I was not careful of Philippa. I was afraid of leaving her even with her own maid.' 'It appears to me that she was rather Philippa's companion than yours.'

In a sense she was; and that is what makes it so ridiculous to suspect her. She is absolutely devoted to Philippa, and how could she have hidden her away against her will? The thing is absurd. The fact is Catherine has spoilt her daughter so, that Philippa has just taken it into her head to be off no one knows where, and then they all come down upon me. One would think they would have respected my first day of widowhood.'

6

'You are responsible for Philippa,' said Lady Sarah in cutting tones. She cannot have vanished into thin air. She must have gone somewhere out of your house, and they must look for the clue of her disappearance there.'

'But I know no more than the babe unborn where she went,' wailed Augusta. 'All I can say is that she enjoyed herself at the dance, and young Kentisbury paid her a great deal of attention. It was my suggestion to send round to their house and tell them in confidence.'

'He is the last person who ought to have heard anything about it,' said Lady Sarah sharply. It may be nothing but a childish freak. She will probably turn up to-morrow, and then he need never have known. A girl's reputation is a brittle thing; you should have had more sense.'

Poor Augusta looked helplessly at her grandmother-in-law.

6

'What is the use of trying to hush it up when it is sure to get into the papers?' she said tearfully. And Charlie is almost frantic. He says he will never rest day or night till he has found her. The Scotland Yard people thought it must be an elopement at first; but now they understand who she is and all about her, they think it is more likely a blackmailing business, and that she has been abducted against her will. But who could have abducted a strong powerful girl like Philippa against her will? The whole thing is a complete mystery.'

'Why has Catherine not been here?' said Lady Sarah. Send her to me.'

'She was out all night with Roper and Pilkington. He is quite knocked up to-day. But Catherine is as strong as a horse; she always was,' said Augusta resentfully. And all to-day she has been with this Detective Mills, questioning and cross-questioning every servant in my house, as I tell you; and bullying me about Mme. Minart's references, and Philippa's fondness for her, and her being left alone with her every evening, and taking meals with her. One would think the girl had been utterly neglected. But

I have told Catherine once for all she is welcome to take charge of my house and everyone in it—indeed she has practically done so without making any bones about it. But, Philippa or no Philippa, I go down to Welwysbere to-morrow, and would to-day only the Sunday trains are so impossible; and I came to tell you, so that everyone should know I have your approval. I suppose you can't disapprove of my wishing to go to-to my poor-oh dear, oh dear!' 'The sooner you go the better,' said Lady Sarah.

'I knew you would think so,' said Augusta, and she rose with some alacrity and tottered to Lady Sarah's side to take her leave.

'Let me know the instant you get news.'

'I will-I will. I'll come round myself before I start to-morrow to bid you good-bye-if I live,' sobbed Augusta piously.

'I shall not expect you otherwise,' said Lady Sarah, and she proffered a cold cheek to Augusta's tearful kiss.

'How profane grandmamma is even at a time like this!' murmured poor Lady Adelstane as she groped her way down the narrow staircase of the little house in Curzon Street.

Augusta's grief seems to have settled in her legs,' said Lady Sarah, viewing in a dispassionate manner from the drawing-room window Augusta's departure, and the tender respect with which she was assisted into the carriage by her colossal footman. 'She appears unable to walk without help.'

'I wish you would come and lie down and rest yourself, my lady,' said Tailer very anxiously; for though she was pretty well accustomed to Lady Sarah's ways, yet she thought her composure under the double catastrophe unnatural. Let me bring you some tea. A visit like that is enough to upset your ladyship's heart, and a cup of tea would do you good, my lady.'

'A cup of tea is all you would require to console you for my Α demise, Tailer, I am well aware,' said Lady Sarah sardonically. 'And I may take this opportunity of warning you that the less you say about me over it the better. For if I hear you telling people that you were my confidential friend, or any nonsense of that kind, you may depend upon it I shall haunt you in the most unpleasant manner.'

'Oh, my lady, what dreadful things you do say! You make my blood run cold,' said Tailer, horrified, and perhaps also a little conscience-stricken.

6

'Leave the door open and the lamp burning all night in the cottage, and do not stir from the house for a moment. Oh, if she should come home and find nobody waiting to welcome her!' wrote Catherine in a hurried tremulous scrawl which poor Miss Dulcinea, blind with tears, could hardly read. There has been a clue. They have found a policeman who saw a tall girl in a blue dress and black hat walking in Belgrave Square at about nine o'clock on Saturday morning. He remembers her because he thought of warning her not to carry her purse so openly in her hand; but, seeing she looked very strong and determined and well able to take care of herself, he said nothing after all. There is no doubt it was my darling, for her plain blue serge dress and her black hat are missing from her wardrobe. She carried no bag nor parcel, he is quite certain of that; so, wherever she went, there could have been nothing premeditated. She did not look agitated nor upset in the least, so she cannot have heard the dreadful news of poor Cecil's death. He says he is certain he would have observed anything unusual about her, because he took particular notice of her being such a fine healthy upright young lady; but though she passed close to him he had nothing to say of her beauty, nor did he remember the colour of her hair. Where she was going we cannot tell. Oh, dear Aunt Dulcinea, you can do nothing but pray for her and watch for her, and as you love me, never leave the cottage day or night lest she should come.'

That is just it. I have no reason that I can ask you or George or anyone else to listen to,' said Catherine almost wildly. 'You can call it instinct if you like a woman's instinct-or a mother's. But directly she touched me I knew, when she put me into the chair by the window last night and I felt her strong hands and saw her dark clever face bending over me, and looking sorry-sorry for me-clever people can't help being sorry for their victims, you know; it is only fools who don't pity and who think of nothing but themselves. It flashed across me then that she knew where Philippa was, and that it was her doing. But how can I expect you or George to believe me when I have no better reason to give

you than that? I told the inspector or detective or whoever he is, Mr. Mills, directly he came.'

'What did he say?'

She shook her head.

'Instinct is sometimes a surer guide than reason,' said David soothingly.

'Look here, Catherine,' said George bluntly and kindly, 'don't go worrying about anyone's opinion of the strength of your reasoning, tell us exactly what you think. No one else knows her so well. And don't stand while you're talking. You look like a washed-out rag; knocking yourself up won't do any good.'

Catherine took the chair he pushed forward, and seated herself in mechanical obedience, but she never moved her bright, feverish eyes from David's face. It was in his wit she sought for help; she trusted George's kindness, but had no belief in his intelligence.

'I know this,' she said solemnly, that as for an elopement, as these men suggest-oh, what do they not suggest?—,'said Catherine almost writhing, ‘a—a clandestine love affair or anything of that kind-it is not in Phil's nature. She would never be persuadednobody could persuade her to do a thing she would know to be wrong or improper. In some ways she is the very soul of conscientiousness-of-of conventionality. But this woman-who had so much influence over her—'

'Mme. Minart had influence over Philippa? She had scarcely known her a fortnight,' said David quickly.

'When one is young-a fortnight—a week-a day—is sometimes an age,' said Catherine; 'I have known a girl give her very heart-let her whole life be changed-in a shorter time than that.' The colour of her white face never varied, and she spoke with straightforward simplicity, but both men knew that she was thinking of herself. From the letters she wrote me I know that Mme. Minart obtained an influence over her directly after she came. Philippa was too guileless to conceal it, even if she had wished. She had formed a friendship for Augusta, but I read between the lines of her dear letters that Augusta had disillusioned her, as was inevitable, and that Mme. Minart had consoled her. Poor child! At her age one must idealise someone.'

What do you think Mme. Minart has done?'

'I believe she has inspired someone to decoy my Phil away. The child would be easily imposed upon, for she would have no suspicions of anyone. And it must be for money; it could not be