ll, little better than an imbecile, I regret
to say, and with no hope of recovery. The physicians I consulted told me
that she must have had the germs of alcoholic insanity in her blood from
her very birth. She told us that she had a daughter, and we traced you
to the school, though she obstinately refused to tell us anything that
would help us to find you. But we were too late; you had run away. We
hunted all Paris over for you, but you were utterly lost."

"Well," said Carol, gently, "I wish I'd stopped now, or that you'd found
me. Things might have been different; but, of course, it can't be helped
now."

"It was a terrible pity," he began, "but still, even now perhaps,
something may be done----"

"We won't talk about that now, if you please, sir," she interrupted, so
decisively that he saw at once that there was no discussion of the
subject possible.

"Pardon me," he said, quickly, "I fear I have annoyed you. Nothing, I
assure you, could be farther from my intention. Now I have troubled you
enough, and more than enough, and I am afraid I have recalled some very
unpleasant memories----"

"Not anything like as bad for me as for you, sir," she said, as he
paused for a moment. "If I have been of any service to you, I'm very
glad, though it's a miserable business altogether."

"Yes, and worse than miserable," he replied, with a slow shake of his
head. Then, glancing through the French windows he saw Dora rubbing one
of two bicycles down with a cloth in the little back garden, and he went
on: "But I see you are getting ready to go for a ride. I must not keep
you any longer, I am deeply grateful to you, believe me, and I hope our
acquaintance may not end here. And now, good-morning."

He held out his hand with the same grave courtesy with which he would
have offered it to the noblest dame of his acquaintance. She looked up
sharply as though to say, "Do you really mean to shake hands with _me_?"
Then her eyes dropped, and the next moment her hand was lying, trembling
a little, in his.

CHAPTER IV.

When he left Melville Gardens, Sir Arthur did not go straight home. He
knew that Vane would not be awake for two or three hours yet, and after
a few moments' hesitation he decided to go and call on his old friend,
Godfrey Raleigh, with whom he had been dining the night before, and, if
he found him at home, put the whole case frankly before him and ask his
advice.

He had just retired with a well-earned K.C.S.