t that I know of," he returned blankly. "It's possible, I suppose ...
anyhow, it's not a bad idea for ... for a story, but...."

"I see you disbelieve still," said Beatrice with a calm disdain. "I had
no idea men could be so stupid. I suppose there is nothing for it but to
wake Mrs. Hedderwick and ask her."

The churchwarden sat down suddenly, as if his knees had given way. "Wake
Mrs. Hedderwick!" he repeated in a ghastly voice: "wake my wife! Oh, no!
It is impossible--quite out of the question!"

"Not at all. She will know whether any one has called here, and in
justice to my veracity you must ask her. I insist! Remember our freedom
is at stake."

Mr. Hedderwick rose, pale but determined.

"I beg your pardon," he said politely. "Will you please go at once? I
have not the least intention of prosecuting, and I swear that I believe
your story. Only will you _please_ go at once?"

Lionel chuckled, amused and grateful.

"This is hardly fair, sir," he said. "You forget that we want
information as to where those papers may have gone. If your wife could
tell us whether any one has called and what his or her appearance----"

"No, no!" quavered the unhappy Robert. "I can not consent! You must find
out elsewhere. I can not have my wife roused! I--I would not have her
here for a thousand pounds!"

"Indeed, Robert!" said a deep voice from the door. The churchwarden
leaped round in a trice. He saw his wife, in the majesty of a
dressing-gown, a poker in her right hand, standing in the doorway. His
bowels turned to water. "Alicia!" he groaned.

"Yes," she said with a pleasurable severity. "What does this mean?" Her
eye roved austerely and there was a dead silence. Robert was temporarily
annihilated, Beatrice serenely impassive, Lionel amusedly dividing his
attention between the two ladies. Presently Mrs. Hedderwick's brow
cleared, as if a light had dawned upon her. She began to speak again in
a voice that was almost cheerful. "I see!" she said: "it is a new idea,
Robert. I suppose these are some of your friends, and this is a kind of
breakfast party. I am very sorry that you did not give me earlier
warning, or I would have had the dining-room ready. My husband," she
said, turning confidentially to Beatrice, "is a man, and naturally does
not realize that bacon can not be fried in a moment, and that eggs will
not cook themselves. Toast, again, needs a little care; and coffee I
always say is worthless unless one looks after it