bore to do so, and hurried away up-stairs to the breakfast parlor.

There he found Lady Belgrade, dressed in a purple cashmere robe, and
wrapped in a rich India shawl, reclining in a rocking-chair beside a
breakfast-table laid for two.

"Good morning, madam. I fear I have kept your ladyship waiting," said the
duke, as he entered the room.

"Not a second, my dear duke. I have but just this instant come down,"
answered the dowager, politely, and unhesitatingly telling the
conventional lie, as she put out her hand and touched the bell.

"I fear that it is useless to ask you if there is any news of our missing
girl," said the duke, in a low tone.

"I have heard nothing. And you? Of course, you have not, or you would not
have asked me the question. But, good Heaven, Duke, you are as pale as a
ghost! You look as if you had just risen from a sick bed! You look full
twenty years older than you did yesterday. What have you been doing with
yourself? Where have you been?" inquired the dowager.

The duke answered her last question only.

"I have been to Church Court to look up Detective Setter. I left orders
for him to report here this morning. I expect him here very soon. I must
do all that I can do in London to-day, as it is absolutely necessary for
me to leave town by the night express of the Great Northern Railroad, in
order to attend the trial for which I am subpoenaed as a witness,
to-morrow."

"I see! Of course, you must go. There is no resisting a subpoena. But who
is to co-operate with Setter in the search for Salome?"

"_You_ must do so, if you please, Lady Belgrade, until my return. Of
course, I will hurry back with all dispatch."

"No fear of that. The only fear is that you will hurry into your grave.
But here is breakfast," said her ladyship, as a footman entered with a
tray.

Mocha coffee, orange pekoe tea, Westphalia ham, poached eggs, dry toast,
muffins, rolls, and so forth, were arranged upon the table to tempt the
appetite of the two who sat at meat.

Lady Belgrade made a good meal. She was at the age of which physicians
say, "the constitution takes on a conservative tone," and which poets
call "the time of peace." In a word, she was middle-aged, fat, and
comfort-loving; and so she was not disposed to lose her rest, or food,
or peace of mind for any trouble not personally her own.

She was vexed at the unconventionality of Salome's disappearance, fearful
of what the world would say, and anxious to k