an, listlessly, without turning his
head.

"I wonder who the gentleman in the light coat could have been," said
Madge, as she settled herself again.

"No one seems to know," he replied evasively.

"Ah, but they have a clue," she said. "Do you know, Brian," she went
on, "that he was dressed just like you in a light overcoat and soft
hat?"

"How remarkable," said Fitzgerald, speaking in a slightly sarcastic
tone, and as calmly as he was able. "He was dressed in the same manner
as nine out of every ten young fellows in Melbourne."

Madge looked at him in surprise at the tone in which he spoke, so
different from his usual nonchalant way of speaking. She was about to
answer when the carriage stopped at the door of the Melbourne Club.
Brian, anxious to escape any more remarks about the murder, sprang
quickly out, and ran up the steps into the building. He found Mr.
Frettlby smoking complacently, and reading the AGE. As Fitzgerald
entered he looked up, and putting down the paper, held out his hand,
which the other took.

"Ah! Fitzgerald," he said, "have you left the attractions of Collins
Street for the still greater ones of Clubland?"

"Not I," answered Brian. "I've come to carry you off to afternoon tea
with Madge and myself."

"I don't mind," answered Mr. Frettlby rising; "but, isn't afternoon tea
at half-past one rather an anomaly?"

"What's in a name?" said Fitzgerald, absently, as they left the room.
"What have you been doing all morning?"

"I've been in here for the last half-hour reading," answered the other,
carelessly.

"Wool market, I suppose?"

"No, the hansom cab murder."

"Oh, d---- that thing!" said Brian, hastily; then, seeing his companion
looking at him in surprise, he apologised. "But, indeed," he went on,
"I'm nearly worried to death by people asking about Whyte, as if I knew
all about him, whereas I know nothing."

"Just as well you don't," answered Mr. Frettlby, as they descended the
steps together; "he was not a very desirable companion."

It was on the tip of Brian's tongue to say, "And yet you wanted him to
marry your daughter," but he wisely refrained, and they reached the
carriage in silence.

"Now then, papa," said Madge, when they were all settled in the
carriage, and it was rolling along smoothly in the direction of East
Melbourne, "what have you been doing?"

"Enjoying myself," answered her father, "until you and Brian came, and
dragged me out into this blazing sunshine."