ced at the telegram and slipped it into her pocket. There
were just a few words in the telegram that would have been
unintelligible to the ordinary understanding. The girl did not even
comprehend, but Littimer's eyes were upon her, and the cipher had to
keep for a time. Littimer walked away at an intimation that his steward
desired to see him.

Instantly the girl's manner changed. She glanced at the Rembrandt with a
shrewd smile that meant something beyond a mere act of prudence well
done. Then she went down to the library and began an eager search for a
certain book. She found it at length, the "David Copperfield" in the
"Charles Dickens" edition of the great novelist's works. For the next
hour or so she was flitting over the pages with the cipher telegram
spread out before her. A little later and the few jumbled, meaningless
words were coded out into a lengthy message. Christabel read them over a
few times, then with the aid of a vesta she reduced the whole thing,
telegram and all, to tinder, which she carefully crushed and flung out of
the window.

She looked away down the terrace, she glanced at the dappled deer
knee-deep in the bracken, she caught a glimpse of the smiling sea, and
her face saddened for a moment.

"How lovely it all is," she murmured. "How exquisitely beautiful and how
utterly sad! And to think that if I possessed the magician's wand for a
moment I could make everything smile again. He is a good man--a better
man than anybody takes him to be. Under his placid, cynical surface he
conceals a deal of suffering. Well, we shall see."

She replaced the "Copperfield" on the shelf and turned to go again.
In the hall she met Lord Littimer dressed for riding. He smiled as
she passed.

"Au revoir till dinner-time," he said. "I've got to go and see a tenant.
Oh, yes, I shall certainly expect the pleasure of your company to dinner.
And now that the Rembrandt--"

"It is safe for the afternoon," Christabel laughed. "It is generally
when the family are dining that the burglar has his busy time. A
pleasant ride to you."

CHAPTER XXVI

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

Lord Littimer returned, as he declared, with the spirits and appetite of
a schoolboy. All the same, he did not for one moment abandon his usual
critical analysis. He rattled on gaily, but he was studying his guest all
the same. She might have been the typical American lady student; but he
was not blind to the fact that the plain muslin and lace