ll surrounded by his books, still careless of the polite
attentions that he owed to a lady.

"Well?" she asked, "have you earned your money?"

"I have found the clew."

"What is it?" she burst out. "Tell me the substance. I can't wait to
read."

He went on impenetrably with what he had to say. "But there are
some minor combinations, which I have still to discover to my own
satisfaction. I want a few days more."

She positively refused to comply with this request. "Write down the
substance of it," she repeated, "and tell me what I owe you."

He handed her back her cipher for the third time.

The woman who could have kept her temper, under such provocation as
this, may be found when the mathematician is found who can square
the circle, or the inventor who can discover perpetual motion. With a
furious look, Mrs. Westerfield expressed her opinion of the philosopher
in two words: "You brute!" She failed to produce the slightest
impression on him.

"My work," he proceeded, "must be well done or not done at all. This is
Saturday, eleventh of the month. We will say the evening of Wednesday
next."

Mrs. Westerfield sufficiently controlled herself to be able to review
her engagements for the coming week. On Thursday, the delay exacted by
the marriage license would expire, and the wedding might take place.
On Friday, the express train conveyed passengers to Liverpool, to be in
time for the departure of the steamer for New York on Saturday morning.
Having made these calculations, she asked, with sulky submission, if she
was expected to call again on the Wednesday evening.

"No. Leave me your name and address. I will send you the cipher,
interpreted, at eight o'clock."

Mrs. Westerfield laid one of her visiting cards on his desk, and left
him.

8.--The Diamonds.

The new week was essentially a week of events.

On the Monday morning, Mrs. Westerfield and her faithful James had their
first quarrel. She took the liberty of reminding him that it was time to
give notice of the marriage at the church, and to secure berths in
the steamer for herself and her son. Instead of answering one way or
another, James asked how the Expert was getting on.

"Has your old man found out where the diamonds are?"

"Not yet."

"Then we'll wait till he does."

"Do you believe my word?" Mrs. Westerfield asked curtly.

James Bellbridge answered, with Roman brevity, "No."

This was an insult; Mrs. Westerfield expressed her sense of i