Mme. Minart looked up into the kind, frank, manly face with a very agitated smile, and a tear in her dark eyes.

Ah, Monsieur,' she said, 'you would never appeal in vain, believe me, to a woman. It is true that the child is in love; but it is also true that she has not told me so, for a very simple reason.' 'And that is

6 That she does not know it herself.'

Then it is mere conjecture on your part?' said George roughly.

'If you like to put it in that way, yes, Monsieur,' she retorted. 'And for that reason I do not choose to reveal the name of him to whom I believe this young girl, in all innocence, has given her heart.'

Then I don't see the use of your having told us the fact,' said George sulkily.

'It is of no use, for it can have nothing to do with her disappearance, since he also is of those who search,' she said patiently. 'M. le Colonel, however, asked me the question.'

'And I thank you for answering it,' said David. But, as Mr. Chilcott says, it is not material if it has nothing to do with her disappearance, and you think it has not?'

'I am sure it has not.'

'Then what do you think?' he asked, fixing his eyes entreatingly on her face.

Ah, mon Dieu, Monsieur,' said Mme. Minart in agitated tones, 'you torture me when you question me thus. Do you think I would not help you if I could?' Her voice was low, almost tender, her dark eyes eloquent with reproach. 'Myself, I have the conviction, like Miladi, that she will return safe and sound. She is full of romance. Who can tell where she may have been pleased to go? Comfort yourself to think she is strong and healthy, and that she had a purse full of money, and is well able to take care of herself."

'No girl of that age can take care of herself,' said George sternly.

This was the end of their questioning of Mme. Minart, and they felt they had gained nothing from the interview, which had the effect, however, of dispersing David's suspicions of the companion; and the more especially when the tearful Roper, though evidently detesting her, corroborated her story in every detail. 'She knows nothing,' said David to George. 'I am not so sure,' said George.

'My dear fellow, you mistrust her, as she says, merely because she is a stranger and a foreigner.'

'Perhaps. Anyway, I don't believe a word she says,' he replied very bluntly.

'You think Catherine's suspicions are justified then?'

'I don't know what to think. The only sure thing is that Philippa has disappeared, and it's either that she's gone off for a lark, which doesn't seem the least like her, or that she's been decoyed away for blackmailing purposes by someone who had heard of poor Adelstane's death and knew she was his heiress.'

Aye, that's just it,' interposed David, 'that practically exonerates Mme. Minart. How in the name of fortune could she have made up a plot to get Philippa decoyed away, which would necessarily mean employing an accomplice, within a couple of hours of the first possible moment she could have learnt of poor Adelstane's fate?'

George shook his head.

'Perhaps we are all wrong in mixing up this sad event with Philippa's disappearance. She may simply have gone out to buy something; lost her way and strayed into some unfrequented street-God knows what may have happened to her in that case.'

'Do not put that into Catherine's head,' said David hastily. 'No doubt that is what the police fear. Of course there is just the chance, though

'Mme. Minart believes her to be in love; of course it's with this young ass, Kentisbury, who made a conspicuous fool of himself at the Lundys' dance, following her about,' said David rather savagely. She may have taken fright-at him, or herself, or something-girls are very fanciful, you know—and be hiding herself. It doesn't sound probable, but it's possible.'

6

'It's not at all like Philippa. She is a thoroughly healthy, sensible girl, not a mysterious idiot,' said George stoutly. And I don't believe Mme. Minart knows her half so well as she pretends to. Phil is a bit spoilt and obstinate, but she's a well-bred 'un, not the least likely to give herself away if she was in love a dozen times over, with Kentisbury or any other young fool.'

I had almost rather it was with any other young fool; the fellow looks such a confounded noodle,' said David gloomily.

Catherine knelt by Lady Sarah's chair, and hid her face upon the flowered lilac satin sleeves of Lady Sarah's gown.

For the first time since the blow had fallen she found a moment's comfort in human sympathy.

'My poor child-my darling Catherine,' murmured the old woman in a broken voice hardly recognisable as her own; and the rare painful tears of age dropped slowly, one by one, on to the bent head, where threads of silver shone among the soft brown hair.

'And it is I who should be comforting you-who have lost youryour last child,' Catherine sobbed. 'I feel so disloyal, so heartless, when I think of him; and yet this other trouble has swallowed up everything.'

་

It is Philippa who is my last child now,' said Lady Sarah. Do not give way, my darling. It is the living of whom we must think, not the dead. His hopes, like ours, were bound up in her.'

The hand which rested on Catherine's soft hair trembled slightly. She thought remorsefully that it was she who had advised Catherine to part with her child; and that Catherine had not uttered a single reproach, nor reminded her of the fact which Lady Sarah could not forget.

'You know that Augusta has been here? She is going to the Abbey with you to-morrow, she says.'

But I am not going to stay,' said Catherine. 'I shall get there in time for for the inquest. But directly that is overoh, how dreadful, how dreadful it all is !-David says I shall be able to come straight back. I need not stay the night. I could not. And besides-the Ralts are going to stay with her. She says she does not want them, but it is better they should go, and Grace Trumoin will go too. The Ralts have been The Ralts have been very kind. They have placed a motor at David's disposal. They say we shall have more clues by the time I return, to follow up.'

Catherine, save your strength for to-morrow, and rest to-night.' 'How can I rest, and my darling perhaps―' she gave a little cry and shudder. 'I dare not think. 'I dare not think. I must not stay with you even now. But I felt you had been neglected, and I hoped you might have some idea-some suggestion.' She uttered a little mirthless laugh that went to Lady Sarah's heart. But perhaps you are too wise to offer suggestions that almost drive one mad with their unlikelihood. The detective, Mr. Mills, has been questioning and questioning till I am almost mad. And then one must go

through it all again with somebody else. He asked me if she had been happy at home. My little Phil, my baby, for whom I would lay down my life; was she happy with me?' She looked calmly and with inexpressible sadness at Lady Sarah. 'And the dreadful part is this—that I could not honestly say yes,' said Catherine.

'Hush, my darling, hush! you little foolish creature,' said Lady Sarah, to whom Catherine, even yet, seemed almost child herself. She was as happy as the day is long. She had everything to make her happy.'

เ

'She did not think so,' said Catherine with a wan smile. That is the sad, funny thing, you know. It wasn't our love, nor our care and petting she wanted, but something new, something different.'

'Girls are full of fancies and ingratitude, and senselessness,' said Lady Sarah angrily. 'You are a fool, my love, to dwell upon such nonsense.'

'Girls are full of fancies—yes, that is what Mr. Mills said,' said Catherine wearily, and she leaned her head on her hand, and thought of the questions she had been asked, and which she had resented, in the midst of her anxiety to afford every possible help, every imaginable clue, to the questioner.

'Happy? How can I say? I've thought of nothing but her happiness from morning till night. What has that to do with her disappearance? She has been decoyed away,' she had said.

Madam, in our experience it has a good deal to do with girls of that age leaving their homes,' the inspector had answered bluntly. 'At fifteen or sixteen they often get, if you'll excuse me, ma'am, discontented with everything, no matter what's done for them; fancying no one understands them, or working themselves up so that you'd almost begin to believe they were ill-treated, though you know to the contrary.' Then he had been touched by Catherine's distress and had begged her pardon. You'll excuse my plain speaking, ma'am, but I've daughters of my own,' he said compassionately. Dealing with some girls of that age is like treading on eggs. And it stands to reason that a young lady accustomed to indulge every whim

'She was not,' cried Catherine.

But the inspector had heard a very different story from Augusta, who, being in an excessively injured frame of mind, and feeling that, at least, she could not be held responsible for the disposition of Catherine's daughter, had vented her indignation against Philippa by roundly declaring her to be the most ungrateful, pig-headed,

wilful, sullen-tempered girl in the world, who cared for nothing but having her own way, and who thought of nobody but herself from morning till night.

But Catherine was fortunately all unaware of the character which Augusta had drawn of her young cousin and guest.

Lady Sarah shook her head sadly.

'It is all a mystery to me,' she said. 'I saw next to nothing of Philippa-Augusta took care of that.'

'The description of my darling will be in every newspaper in England to-morrow,' said Catherine. 'I wrote it for them. They said there was no hope of avoiding publicity, and that indeed publicity gives us the best chance of finding her quickly.'

She started nervously to her feet.

'I must go. I feel every moment something may be happening, and I not there to help.'

'Don't forget me,' said Lady Sarah pathetically. 'Spare me a few moments when you can. I am very old and helpless and lonely, Catherine, sitting here by myself.'

Even in the midst of her heart-sickening anxiety Catherine could not but realise how shaken the old woman's nerves must be before Lady Sarah-stern, ironical, and self-controlled through all her past sorrows-could make such an appeal.

(To be continued.)