herself?"

"Well, I should say so! My, but she was that lovely! He took her up
to Branchville to the train--and how I did hate to see her go!"

"Of course, yes, I remember he had a niece," said Garrison, his mind
reverting to the "statement" in his pocket. "But, upon my word, I
believe I've forgotten her name."

"He called her Dot," said Mrs. Wilson.

"But her real name?" said Garrison.

"Her real name was Dorothy Booth before she was married," replied Mrs.
Wilson, "but now, of course, it's changed."

Garrison had suddenly turned ashen. He managed to control himself by
making a very great effort.

"Perhaps you know her married name?" he said.

"I never forget a thing like that," said Mrs. Wilson. "Her married
name is Mrs. Fairfax."

It seemed to Garrison he was fighting in the toils of some astounding
maze, where sickening mists arose to clog his brain. He could scarcely
believe his senses. A tidal wave of facts and deductions, centering
about the personality of Dorothy Booth-Fairfax, surged upon him
relentlessly, bearing down and engulfing the faith which he strove to
maintain in her honesty.

He had felt from the first there was something deep and dark with
mystery behind the girl who had come to his office with her most
amazing employment. He had entertained vague doubts upon hearing of
wills and money inheritance at the house where she lived in New York.

He recalled the start she had given, while playing at the piano, upon
learning he was leaving for Hickwood. Her reticence and the
strangeness of the final affair of the necklaces, in connection with
this present development, left him almost in despair.

Despite it all, as it overwhelmed him thus abruptly, he felt himself
struggling against it. He could not even now accept a belief in her
complicity in such a deed while he thought of the beauty of her nature.
That potent something she had stirred in his heart was a fierce,
fighting champion to defend her.

He had not dared confess to himself he was certainly, fatefully falling
in love with this girl he scarcely knew, but his heart refused to hear
her accused and his mind was engaged in her defence.

Above all else, he felt the need for calmness. Perhaps the sky would
clear itself, and the sun again gild her beauty.

"Mrs. Fairfax," he repeated to his garrulous informant. "She brought
the cigars, you say, the day of Mr. Hardy's arrival?"

"And went away on the six-forty-three," said M