gh pursued his walk in silence.

"No," he said at last, "I prefer not to discuss the affair. That night
is one full of painful memories."

"Very well," answered Benton shortly. "If you don't want to tell me,
Hugh, I quite understand. That's enough. Have another cigarette," and he
handed the young fellow his heavy gold case.

A week passed. Hugh Henfrey and Charles Benton greatly enjoyed their
stay at Shapley Manor. With their hostess they motored almost daily
to many points of interest in the neighbourhood, never, by the way,
descending into the town of Guildford, where the police were so
unusually alert and shrewd.

More than once when alone with Benton, Hugh felt impelled to refer to
the mysterious death of his father, but it was a very painful subject.
The last time Hugh had referred to it, about a month before his visit to
Monte Carlo, Benton had been greatly upset, and had begged the young man
not to mention the tragic affair.

Constantly, however, Benton, on his part, would put cunning questions to
him concerning Yvonne Ferad, as to what he knew concerning her, and how
he had managed to escape over the frontier into Italy.

Late one night as they sat together in the billiard-room after their
final game, Benton, removing the cigar from his lips, exclaimed:

"Oh! I quite forgot to tell you, Mrs. Bond has been awfully good to
Louise. She took her from Paris with her and they went quite a long
tour, first to Spain and other places, and then to New York and back."

"Has she?" exclaimed Hugh in surprise. Only once before had Benton
mentioned Louise's name, then he had casually remarked that she was on a
visit to some friends in Yorkshire.

"Yes. She's making her home with Mrs. Bond for the present. She returns
here to-morrow."

As he said this, he watched the young man's face. It was sphinx-like.

"Oh! That's jolly!" he replied, with well assumed satisfaction. "It
seems such an age since we last met--nearly a year before my father's
death, I believe."

In his heart he had no great liking for the girl, although she was
bright, vivacious and extremely good company.

Next afternoon the pair met in the hall after the car had brought her
from Guildford station.

"Hallo, Hugh!" she cried as she grasped his hand. "Uncle wrote and
told me you were here! How jolly, isn't it? Why--you seem to have grown
older," she laughed.

"And you younger," he replied, bending over her hand gallantly. "I hear
you've been all