e-powder, if necessary. I'm going to see what blackens Mrs.
Evelegh's bangle.'

I laid the franc and the brooch on the bottle, filled with hot water,
and placed them for warmth in the fold of a blanket. After _dejeuner_,
we inspected them. As I anticipated, the brooch had grown black on the
surface with a thin iridescent layer of silver sulphide, while the franc
had hardly suffered at all from the exposure.

I called in Mrs. Evelegh, and explained what I had done. She was
astonished and half incredulous. 'How could you ever think of it?' she
cried, admiringly.

'Why, I was reading an article yesterday about india-rubber in one of
your magazines,' I answered; 'and the person who wrote it said the raw
gum was hardened for vulcanising by mixing it with sulphur. When I heard
you ask Cecile for the hot-water-bottle, I thought at once: "The sulphur
and the heat account for the tarnishing of Mrs. Evelegh's bangle."'

'And the franc doesn't tarnish! Then that must be why my other silver
bracelet, which is English make, and harder, never changes colour! And
Dr. Fortescue-Langley assured me it was because the soft one was of
Indian metal, and had mystic symbols on it--symbols that answered to the
cardinal moods of my sub-conscious self, and that darkened in sympathy.'

I jumped at a clue. 'He talked about your sub-conscious self?' I broke
in.

'Yes,' she answered. 'He always does. It's the key-note of his system.
He heals by that alone. But, my dear, after this, how can I ever believe
in him?'

'Does he know about the hot-water-bottle?' I asked.

'Oh, yes; he ordered me to use it on certain nights; and when I go to
England he says I must never be without one. I see now that was why my
inner self invariably went wrong in England. It was all just the sulphur
blackening the bangles.'

I reflected. 'A middle-aged man?' I asked. 'Stout, diplomatic-looking,
with wrinkles round his eyes, and a distinguished grey moustache,
twirled up oddly at the corners?'

'That's the man, my dear! His very picture. Where on earth have you seen
him?'

'And he talks of sub-conscious selves?' I went on.

'He practises on that basis. He says it's no use prescribing for the
outer man; to do that is to treat mere symptoms: the sub-conscious self
is the inner seat of diseases.'

'How long has he been in Switzerland?'

'Oh, he comes here every year. He arrived this season late in May, I
fancy.'

'When will he visit you again, Mrs. Evelegh?