no. Was the hand of Providence in this?
Perhaps. The future will tell. And now, Mr. Gryce, since my budget is
quite empty and the hour late, I will take my leave. If you hear from
that bit of paper----"

"If I hear from it in the way you suggest I will let you know. It will
be the least I can do for a lady who has done so much for me."

"Now you flatter me--proof positive that I have stayed a minute longer
than was judicious. Good evening, Mr. Gryce. What? I have not stayed too
long? You have something else to ask."

"Yes, and this time it is concerning a matter personal to yourself. May
I inquire if you wore the same bonnet yesterday that you do to-day?"

"No, sir. I know you have a good reason for this question, and so will
not express my surprise. Yesterday I was in reception costume, and my
bonnet was a jet one----"

"With long strings tied under the chin?"

"No, sir, short strings; long strings are no longer the fashion."

"But you wore something which fell from your neck?"

"Yes, a boa--a feather boa. How came you to know it, sir? Did I leave my
image in one of the mirrors?"

"Hardly. If so, I should not have expected it to speak. You merely wrote
the fact on the study table top. Or so I have dared to think. You or the
young lady--did she wear ribbons or streamers, too?"

"That I cannot say. Her face was all I saw, and the skirt of a
dove-colored silk dress."

"Then you must settle the question for me in this way. If on the tips of
that boa of yours you find the faintest evidence of its having been
dipped in blood, I shall know that the streaks found on the top of the
table I speak of were evidences of your presence there. But if your boa
is clean, or was not long enough to touch that dying man as you leaned
over him, then we have proof that the young lady with the dove-colored
plumes fingered that table also, instead of falling at once into the
condition in which you saw her carried out."

"I fear that it is my boa which will tell the tale: another proof of the
fallibility of man, or, rather, woman. In secret search for clews I left
behind me traces of my own presence. I really feel mortified, sir, and
you have quite the advantage of me."

And with this show of humility, which may not have been entirely
sincere, this estimable lady took her departure.

Did Mr. Gryce suffer from any qualms of conscience at having elicited so
much and imparted so little? I doubt it. Mr. Gryce's conscience was
quit