think it was present to me that with these particular elements his lordship would not be at home. The moment we got up, therefore, I approached Mrs. Adney, asking her whether, as the evening was lovely, she wouldn't take a turn with me outside.
"You've walked a hundred miles; had you not better be quiet?" she replied.
"I'd walk a hundred miles more to get you to tell me something."
She looked at me an instant, with a little of the queerness I had sought, but had not found, in Clare Vawdrey's eyes. "Do you mean what became of Lord Mellifont?"
"Of Lord Mellifont?" With my new speculation I had lost that thread.
"Where's your memory, foolish man? We talked of it last evening."
"Ah, yes!" I cried, recalling; "we shall have lots to discuss." I drew her out to the terrace, and before we had gone three steps I said to her: "Who was with you here last night?"
"Last night?" she repeated, as wide of the mark as I had been.
"At ten o'clock—just after our company
