very much.'

'It's a silly little thing, just a head on some sort of green stone.
But I tried it on sealing-wax, and the impression is not so bad. I
shall be very happy if it's of any use, for I'm always puzzling my
brain to find something you may like.'

'Thanks very much. It's the thought I care for.' She laid the seal on
the table beside her empty cup. 'And now that we are alone,' she went
on, 'please tell me.'

'What?'

'How you found out what you told me at dinner last night.'

She leant back in the chair, raising her arms and joining her hands
above her head against the high top of the chair, and stretching
herself a little. The attitude threw the curving lines of her figure
into high relief, and was careless enough, but the tone in which she
spoke was almost one of command, and there was a sort of expectant
resentfulness in her eyes as they watched his face while she waited
for his answer. She believed that he had paid to have her watched by
some one who had bribed her servants.

'I did not find out anything,' he said quietly. 'I received an
anonymous letter from New York giving me all the details of the scene.
The letter was written with the evident intention of injuring Mr. Van
Torp. Whoever wrote it must have heard what you said to each other,
and perhaps he was watching you through the keyhole. It is barely
possible that by some accident he overheard the scene through the
local telephone, if there was one in the room. Should you care to see
that part of the letter which concerns you? It is not very delicately
worded!'

Margaret's expression had changed; she had dropped her hands and was
leaning forward, listening with interest.

'No,' she said, 'I don't care to see the letter, but who in the world
can have written it? You say it was meant to injure Mr. Van Torp--not
me.'

'Yes. There is nothing against you in it. On the contrary, the writer
calls attention to the fact that there never was a word breathed
against your reputation, in order to prove what an utter brute Van
Torp must be.'

'Tell me,' Margaret said, 'was that story about Lady Maud in the same
letter?'

'Oh dear, no! That is supposed to have happened the other day, but I
got the letter last winter.'

'When?'

'In January, I think.'

'He came to see me soon after New Year's Day,' said Margaret.' I wish
I knew who told--I really don't believe it was my maid.'

'I took the letter to one of those men who tell character by
handwri