f
generally.

"Why, you know, Mr. Belknap," she said at last, and with charming
ingenuousness, "this is not a matter for my judgment; I rely upon you
entirely; pray do not hesitate, but continue your investigations in
whatever direction your judgment leads you. I wish Mr. Lamotte was here
to confer with you; but, if he were here," and her face became sad as
she thought of his home coming; "he would hardly be in spirits for such
a consultation. Mr. Lamotte has bad news awaiting him. We must venture
this matter without his aid for the present."

The detective's face showed grave concern.

"Bad news for Mr. Lamotte," he murmurs; "I deeply deplore that. He seems
such a genial, kindly gentleman, so much above the average business man.
It is not too serious, I hope."

"It is something you would have heard from the first gossip, if you had
mingled with the town people at all," replied Constance sadly. "I may as
well tell you what every one knows. Mr. Lamotte's only daughter has
eloped during his absence, with a very worthless man."

"His only daughter!" repeated the detective in a hushed sympathetic
voice; "what a blow! what a bitter blow to a father's heart. Ah, madam,"
turning to Mrs. Aliston, "these things are common, especially so to men
in my profession, but we can never adjust ourselves to them for all
that; each one comes to some one with the shock of a never before
experienced horror. Death is common, the commonest thing of all, but, it
is the 'king of terrors' still."

His voice, low, splendidly modulated, sadly cadenced, seemed thrilling
with sympathy, and he sighed as he lowered his eyes to the floor, and
relapsed into meditation, seemingly forgetful of the business in hand.

Suddenly he started, seeming to recover himself with an effort.

"Pardon my abstraction," he said, a shade of pensiveness still lingering
in his voice. "In contemplating another's sorrow, I am forgetting your
business. I can only hope that this matter is not so bad as it might be,
as such things sometimes are."

"It's as bad as it can be," responded Constance, gloomily. "It won't
bear discussion; I mentioned it to you, Mr. Belknap, in order to show
you how entirely absorbed Mr. Lamotte will of necessity be in his own
affairs when he reaches home, and that we will be obliged to move in
this matter without him."

"Perhaps there is some one else you may desire to consult, in Mr.
Lamotte's absence?" hazarded the private detective.

"N