at Mrs. Bond had said was her secret. She was very fond of Hugh. They
had not met very often, but he had attracted her--a fact of which both
Benton and his female accomplice were well aware.

"You don't reply," laughed the woman for whom the Paris Surete was
searching everywhere; "but your face betrays the truth, my dear. Don't
worry," she added in a tone of sympathy. "No doubt he'll write as soon
as he is back in England. Personally, I don't believe he really cares a
rap for the Ranscomb girl. It's only a matter of money--and Dorise has
plenty."

"I don't wish to hear anything about Mr. Henfrey's love affairs!" cried
the girl petulantly. "I tell you that they do not interest me."

"Because you are piqued that he does not write, child. Ah, dear, I
know!" she laughed, as the girl left the room.

A quarter of an hour later Louise was seated in the car, while Mead
drove her along the broad highway over the Hog's Back into Guildford.
The morning was delightful, the trees wore their spring green, and all
along in the fields, as they went over the high ridge, the larks were
singing gaily the music of a glad morning of the English spring, and the
view spread wide on either side.

Life in Surrey was, she found, much preferable to that on the Continent.
True, in the Rue Racine they had entertained a great deal, and she
had, during the war, met many very pleasant young English and American
officers; but the sudden journey to Switzerland, then on into Italy,
and across to New York, had been a whirl of excitement. Mrs. Maxwell had
changed her name several times, because she said that she did not want
her divorced husband, a ne'er-do-well, to know of her whereabouts. He
was for ever molesting her, she had told Louise, and for that reason she
had passed in different names.

The girl was in complete ignorance of the truth. She never dreamed that
the source of the woman's wealth was highly suspicious, or that the
constant travelling was in order to evade the police.

As she was driven along, she sat back reflecting. Truth to tell, she was
much in love with Hugh. Benton had first introduced him one night at
the Spa in Scarborough, and after that they had met several times on the
Esplanade, then again in London, and once in Paris. Yet while she,
on her part, became filled with admiration, he was, apparently, quite
unconscious of it.

At last she had heard of Hugh's infatuation for Dorise Ranscomb, the
daughter of the great engin