ld go into the room off this
sitting-room till he's gone."

Flight is hardly the term to be applied to the second Miss Purcell's
retreat, and it says a good deal for the Inspector's mental collapse
that he saw nothing ludicrous in her retreating back, clad as it was in
his own covert coat, with a blanket like the garment of an Indian brave
trailing beneath it. Nora tore open a door near the fireplace, and
revealed a tiny room containing a table, a broken chair, and a heap of
feathers near an old feather bed on the floor.

"Get in, Muriel!" she cried.

They got in, and as the door closed on them Sir Thomas entered the room.

During the morning the identity of the stranger on whom he had poured
the vials of his wrath, with the Local Government Board Inspector whom
he was prepared to be delighted to honour, had been brought home to Sir
Thomas, and nothing could have been more handsome and complete than the
apology that he now tendered. He generously admitted the temptation
endured in seeing hounds get away with a good fox on a day devoted to
cubbing, and even went so far as to suggest that possibly Captain
Clarke--

"Hamilton-Clarke," said the Inspector.

"Had ridden so hard in order to stop them."

"Er--quite so," said the Inspector.

Something caused the dressing-room door to rattle, and Captain
Hamilton-Clarke grew rather red.

"My wife and I hope," continued Sir Thomas, urbanely, "that you will
come over to dine with us to-morrow evening, or possibly to-night."

He stopped. A trap drove rapidly up to the door, and Lady Purcell's
voice was heard agitatedly inquiring "if Miss Muriel and Miss Nora were
there? Casey had just told her--"

The rest of the sentence was lost.

"Why, that _is_ my wife!" said Sir Thomas. "What the deuce does she want
here?"

A strange sound came from behind the door of the dressing-room:
something between a stifled cry and a laugh. The Inspector's ears became
as red as blood. Then from within there was heard a sort of rush, and
something fell against the door. There followed a wholly uncontrolled
yell and a crash, and the door was burst open.

It has, I think, been mentioned that in the corner of the dressing-room
in which the Misses Purcell had taken refuge there was on the floor the
remains of a feather bed. The feathers had come out through a ragged
hole in one corner of it; Nora, in the shock of hearing of Lady
Purcell's arrival, trod on the corner of the bed and squeezed m