long time. This news saddened him for a little."
"When did he hear of Leigh's death?"
"The day before yesterday. The Dean of his college told him. He was visibly affected for the time, and talked of him to me all the evening. He told me several incidents with regard to a foreign tour they had taken together."
"Indeed! And he seemed depressed while he spoke?"
"Only just for a time."
"When did your husband and Mr. Leigh go abroad?"
Mrs. Mainwaring thought for a moment.
"It was just after Edward had taken his degree," she said. "He mentioned that fact also when he talked over matters the evening before last."
"From what part of England did Mr. Mainwaring and Mr. Leigh start on their foreign tour?"
"I think it must have been from Dover. Yes, I remember now; Edward said that Mr. Leigh arranged to meet him at Dover. He failed to keep his first appointment, and Edward had to remain at Dover waiting for him for twenty-four hours."
I thought over this piece of information for some time. The story was altogether puzzling; the queer thing about it being not so much the fact of Mainwaring's brain having gone wrong as the strange form his aberration seemed to have taken. It was too evidently the fact that he was either possessed by an active dislike to his wife, or had forgotten her existence.
After some anxious thought I asked Mrs. Mainwaring one or two more questions.
"Did you notice anything peculiar in your husband the last evening and night you spent together?"
"Nothing whatever," she replied. "My dear husband was just his old self. His depression about Walter Leigh soon passed away, and he spoke cheerfully about his own prospects and said how exceptionally lucky he considered himself to be able to resume his professional work so soon after such a severe illness. The evening post, too, brought him a letter, which cheered him a good deal. It was from a solicitor in large practice, offering him the brief of a very important case which was to come on in the criminal courts. Edward was highly delighted at the thought of this work, which meant large fees, badly needed by us just at present. Early the next morning the post brought us the news about Nancy's illness. My husband wished to go with me to Croydon, but I dissuaded him. I did not consider him strong enough, notwithstanding his boasted return to health, for this fatigue. He saw me off at the station, however, and promised to meet me there the following morning, if the child were well enough for me to return."
"Were you surprised when you did not see him?"
"I was, for he is the sort of man who always keeps any engagement he makes."
"A few more questions, Mrs. Mainwaring; and first, how long have you been married?"
"Six years," she said, looking up with a faint blush on her white face, "and Nancy will be five in a week."
"You never happened to meet this Walter Leigh?"
"Never."
"Did your husband ever speak of him to you until two days ago?"
"It is strange, but he never did. He is, as a rule, a very busy man—much occupied with a growing practice."
"Did you happen to know any of his college friends?"
"No."
"You were not in any way connected with that part of his life?"
"No; we never met until, at least, three years after my husband left Cambridge."
"Thank you," I said. "I do not think I have anything further to ask you."
"But what do you mean to do?" she asked. "We can't sit here quietly and allow my unhappy husband to roam the country. He must be found, and at once. He—he may have———" Her lips trembled, she lowered her eyes.
"No," I said. "He has not committed suicide. Rest easy on that point. From what you tell me of your husband I feel inclined to think—of course, I may be wrong—but I feel strongly inclined to think that he is at Dover at the present moment."
"What can you possibly mean?"
"What I say. It is quite within the region of probability that he may be at Dover, waiting for his friend Walter Leigh to join him."
When I said this Mrs. Mainwaring looked at me as if she thought I, too, had taken leave of my senses. I took no notice of her expressive face.
"I am prepared to go with you to Dover," I said. "Shall we start at once?"
She looked dubious and terribly anxious.
"It seems waste of time," she said, after a pause.
