took the war to bring us to our senses. But,
now, this damned old woman comes and upsets the whole thing."

"But," said I, "after all, it was only a bow at a venture on the part
of the old lady."

"I wish it were," said he, and he handed me a letter which Maria had
written to him the day after her return to Scotland.

The letter contained a pretty piece of information. She had summarily
discharged Elspeth Macrae, her confidential maid of five-and-twenty
years' standing. Elspeth Macrae, on her own confession, had, out of
love for Althea, performed the time-honoured jugglery with
correspondence. She had posted in Galloway letters which she had
received, under cover, from Althea, and had forwarded letters that had
arrived addressed to Althea to an accommodation address in Carlisle. So
have sentimental serving-maids done since the world began.

"What do you make of it?" asked Sir Anthony.

What else could I make of it but the one sorry theory? What woman
employs all this subterfuge in order to obtain a weeks liberty for any
other purpose than the one elementary purpose of young humanity?

We read the inevitable conclusion in each other's eyes.

"Who is the man, Duncan?"

"I suppose you have searched her desk and things?"

"Last year. Everything most carefully. It was awful--but we had to. Not
a scrap of paper that wasn't innocence itself."

"It can't be anyone here," said I. "You know what the place is. The
slightest spark sends gossip aflame like the fumes of petrol."

He sat down by my side and rubbed his close-cropped grey head.

"It couldn't have been young Holmes?"

The little man had a brave directness that sometimes disconcerted me. I
knew the ghastly stab that every word cost him.

"She used to make mock of Randall," said I. "Don't you remember she
used to call him 'the gilded poet'? Once she said he was the most
lady-like young man of her acquaintance. I don't admire our young
friend, but I think you're on the wrong track, Anthony."

"I don't see it," said he. "That sort of flippancy goes for nothing.
Women use it as a sort of quickset hedge of protection." He bent
forward and tapped me on my senseless knee. "Young Holmes always used
to be in and out of the house. They had known each other from
childhood. He had a distinguished Oxford career. When he won the
Newdigate, she came running to me with the news, as pleased as Punch. I
gave him a dinner in honour of it, if you remember."

"I remember,"