robation. And then she turned to Cleggett again.

"Mr. Cleggett," she said, "my birthday occurred a few days ago. It
was--I have nothing to conceal, Mr. Cleggett--it was my forty-ninth
birthday. Every year, for many years past, a niece of mine who lives
in Flatbush sends me on my birthday a box of plum preserves.

"These preserves have for me, Mr. Cleggett, a value that they would not
possess for anyone else; a value far above their intrinsic or, as one
might say, culinary value. They have a sentimental value as well. I
was born in Flatbush, and lived there, during my youth, on my father's
estate. The city has since grown around the old place, which my niece
now owns, but the plum trees stand as they have stood for more than
fifty years. It was beneath these plum trees...."

Miss Pringle suddenly broke off; her face twitched; she felt for a
handkerchief, and found none; she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

In another person this action might have appeared somewhat careless,
but Miss Pringle, by the force of her character, managed to invest it
with propriety and dignity; looking at her, one felt that to wipe one's
eyes on one's sleeve was quite proper when done by the proper person.

"I will conceal nothing, Mr. Cleggett. It was under these plum trees
that I once received an offer of marriage from a worthy young man. It
was from one of these plum trees that he later fell, injuring himself
so that he died. You can understand what these plum trees mean to me,
perhaps?"

Lady Agatha impulsively sat down beside the elder woman and put her arm
about her. But Miss Pringle stiffly moved away. After a moment she
continued:

"The preserved plums, as I have said, are sent me every year on my
birthday. This year, when I received from my niece a notification that
they had been shipped, I called for the box personally at the freight
office.

"What was my astonishment to learn that the box had been claimed in my
name, not a quarter of an hour before, and taken away.

"I obtained a description of the person who had represented herself as
Miss Genevieve Pringle, and of the vehicle in which she had carried off
my box. And I followed her. The paltriness of the theft revolted me,
Mr. Cleggett, and I determined to bring this person to justice.

"The fugitive, with my plum preserves in her possession, had left,
goodness knows, a broad enough trail. I found but little difficulty in
following in my family carriage. In