had invited Elsie and myself to stop with her
at the _chalet_. We went, and found it a delightful little home. Mrs.
Evelegh was charming; but we could see at every turn that Dr.
Fortescue-Langley had acquired a firm hold over her. 'He's so clever,
you know,' she said; 'and so spiritual! He exercises such strong odylic
force. He binds my being together. If he misses a visit, I feel my inner
self goes all to pieces.'

'Does he come often?' I asked, growing interested.

'Oh, dear, no,' she answered. 'I wish he did: it would be ever so good
for me. But he's so much run after; I am but one among many. He lives at
Chateau d'Oex, and comes across to see patients in this district once a
fortnight. It is a privilege to be attended by an intuitive seer like
Dr. Fortescue-Langley.'

Mrs. Evelegh was rich--'left comfortably,' as the phrase goes, but with
a clause which prevented her marrying again without losing her fortune;
and I could gather from various hints that Dr. Fortescue-Langley,
whoever he might be, was bleeding her to some tune, using her soul and
her inner self as his financial lancet. I also noticed that what she
said about the bangle was strictly true; generally bright as a new pin,
on certain mornings it was completely blackened. I had been at the
_chalet_ ten days, however, before I began to suspect the real reason.
Then it dawned upon me one morning in a flash of inspiration. The
evening before had been cold, for at the height where we were perched,
even in August, we often found the temperature chilly in the night, and
I heard Mrs. Evelegh tell Cecile, her maid, to fill the hot-water
bottle. It was a small point, but it somehow went home to me. Next day
the bangle was black, and Mrs. Evelegh lamented that her inner self must
be suffering from an attack of evil vapours.

I held my peace at the time, but I asked Cecile a little later to bring
me that hot-water-bottle. As I more than half suspected, it was made of
india-rubber, wrapped carefully up in the usual red flannel bag. 'Lend
me your brooch, Elsie,' I said. 'I want to try a little experiment.'

'Won't a franc do as well?' Elsie asked, tendering one. 'That's equally
silver.'

'I think not,' I answered. 'A franc is most likely too hard; it has base
metal to alloy it. But I will vary the experiment by trying both
together. Your brooch is Indian and therefore soft silver. The native
jewellers never use alloy. Hand it over; it will clean with a little
plat