of his hat, shook hands rheumatically and waited
for us to speak.

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Jellicoe," said Miss Bellingham.

"It is very good of you to say so," he replied.

"And quite a coincidence--that we should all happen to come here on the
same day."

"A coincidence, certainly," he admitted; "and if we had all happened
not to come--which must have occurred frequently--that also would have
been a coincidence."

"I suppose it would," said she, "but I hope we are not interrupting
you."

"Thank you, no. I had just finished when I had the pleasure of
perceiving you."

"You were making some notes in reference to the case, I imagine," said
I. It was an impertinent question, put with malice aforethought for
the mere pleasure of hearing him evade it.

"The case?" he repeated. "You are referring, perhaps, to Stevens
versus the Parish Council?"

"I think Doctor Berkeley was referring to the case of my uncle's will,"
Miss Bellingham said quite gravely, though with a suspicious dimpling
about the corners of her mouth.

"Indeed," said Mr. Jellicoe. "There is a case, is there; a suit?"

"I mean the proceedings instituted by Mr. Hurst."

"Oh, but that was merely an application to the Court, and is, moreover,
finished and done with. At least, so I understand. I speak, of
course, subject to correction; I am not acting for Mr. Hurst, you will
be pleased to remember. As a matter of fact," he continued, after a
brief pause, "I was just refreshing my memory as to the wording of the
inscriptions on these stones, especially that of your grandfather,
Francis Bellingham. It has occurred to me that if it should appear by
the finding of the coroner's jury that your uncle is deceased, it would
be proper and decorous that some memorial should be placed here. But,
as the burial ground is closed, there might be some difficulty about
erecting a new monument, whereas there would probably be none in adding
an inscription to one already existing. Hence these investigations.
For if the inscriptions on your grandfather's stone had set forth that
'here rests the body of Francis Bellingham,' it would have been
manifestly improper to add 'also that of John Bellingham, son of the
above.' Fortunately the inscription was more discreetly drafted,
merely recording the fact that this monument is 'sacred to the memory
of the said Francis,' and not committing itself as to the whereabouts
of the remains. But perhaps I am