know. I never heard her called anything but Hilda."

Titherington shut his note book and swore. Then he dropped his pencil on
the floor. I felt quite sorry for him. If I had known Hilda's surname I
should have told it to him at once.

"It's just possible," I said, "that Selby-Harrison's father might know.
He lives down in these parts somewhere. Perhaps you've met him."

"There's only one Selby-Harrison here. He's on your committee, a warm
supporter of yours."

"That's the man. Selby-Harrison, the son I mean, said he'd write to
the old gentleman and tell him to vote for me. I expect he went on my
committee after that."

"And you think he can get at this young woman's mother?"

"No. I don't think anything of the sort. All I say is that he may
possibly know the name of Hilda's mother."

"Can't I get at Miss Beresford's mother?"

"No, you can't. She's been dead for twenty years."

"A good job for her," said Titherington.

"The Archdeacon would agree with you there."

"What Archdeacon?"

I saw that I had made an unfortunate admission. Titherington, in his
present mood, would be quite capable of bringing the Archdeacon down on
us here. I would almost rather have a second nurse. I hastened to cover
my mistake.

"Any Archdeacon," I said. "You know what Archdeacons are. There isn't
one of them belonging to any church who wouldn't disapprove strongly of
Miss Beresford."

Titherington grunted.

"If I thought an Archdeacon would be any use," he said, "I'd get a dozen
if I had to pay them fifty pounds apiece."

"They wouldn't help in the slightest. Miss Beresford and Hilda have
libelled twenty-three bishops in their day. They'd simply laugh at your
Archdeacons."

"Well," said Titherington, "I suppose that's all I am to get out of
you."

"That's all. If there was anything else I could suggest----"

Titherington picked up his pencil again.

"I'll try Selby-Harrison," he said, "and if he knows the name----"

"If he doesn't, get him to wire to his son for it. He certainly knows."

"I will."

"I needn't tell you," I added, "that the telegram must be cautiously
worded."

"What do you mean?"

"Merely that if Selby-Harrison, the son, suspects that you and the
father want to worry Hilda or Miss Beresford in any way he'll lie low
and not answer the telegram. He's on the committee of the A.S.P.L., so of
course he won't want the work of the society to be interfered with."

"If he doesn't answer, I'll go up to