TERFERE

Mr. Murray had had no belief in Sir Edmund Grosse's doings, and he
indulged in the provoking air of "I told you so," when the latter, who
had not been in London for several months, appeared at the office, and
owned to the futility of his visit to Florence. Meanwhile, Mr. Murray
had also carried on a fruitless enquiry in a different direction.

"The General's two most intimate friends were killed about two months
after his death, and his servant died in the same action--probably
before Sir David himself. I have tried to find out if he had any talk on
his own affairs with friends on board ship going out, but it seems not.
I can show you the list of those who went out with him."

Sir Edmund knew something of most people and after studying the list he
went to look up an old soldier friend at the Army and Navy Club. Indeed,
for some weeks he was often to be seen there, and he was as attentive to
Generals as an anxious parent seeking advancement in the Army for an
only son. He soon became discouraged as to obtaining any information
regarding David's later years, but some gossip on his younger days he
did glean. Nothing could have been better than David's record; he
seemed to have been a paragon of virtue.

"That's what made it all the more strange that he should have fallen
into the hands of Mrs. Johnny Dexter," mused an old Colonel as he puffed
at one of Grosse's most admirable cigars. "Poor old David; he was wax in
her hands for a few weeks, then he got fever and recovered from her and
from it at the same time--he went home soon after. He'd have done
anything for her at one moment."

This Colonel might well have been flattered by Edmund's attentions; but
he gave little in return for them except what he said that day.

"Mrs. Johnny Dexter! Why, I'm sure I have known Dexters," thought
Edmund, as he strolled down Pall Mall after this conversation. He
stopped to think, regardless of public observation. "Why, of course,
that old bore Lady Dawning was a Miss Dexter. I'll go and see her this
very day."

Lady Dawning was gratified at Sir Edmund's visit, and was nearly as much
surprised at seeing him as he was at finding himself in the handsome,
heavily-furnished room in Princes Gate. Stout, over fifty, and clumsily
wigged, it rarely enough happened to Lady Dawning to find not only a
sympathetic listener but an eager inquirer into those romantic days when
love's young dream for her cousin Johnny Dexter was stifled