an as Mr. Vimpany, in the
compassionate feeling with which she regarded the doctor's unhappy
wife. There might well be some humiliating circumstance, recently added
to the other trials of Mrs. Vimpany's married life, which had appealed
to all that was generous and forgiving in the nature of Iris. Knowing
nothing of the resolution to live apart which had latterly separated
the doctor and his wife, Mountjoy decided on putting his idea to the
test by applying for information to Mrs. Vimpany at her husband's
house.

In the nature of a sensitive man the bare idea of delay, under these
circumstances, was unendurable. Hugh called the first cab that passed
him, and drove to Hampstead.

Careful--morbidly careful, perhaps--not to attract attention needlessly
to himself, he stopped the cab at the entrance to Redburn Road, and
approached Number Five on foot. A servant-girl answered the door.
Mountjoy asked if Mrs. Vimpany was at home.

The girl made no immediate reply. She seemed to be puzzled by
Mountjoy's simple question. Her familiar manner, with its vulgar
assumption of equality in the presence of a stranger, revealed the
London-bred maid-servant of modern times. "Did you say _Mrs._ Vimpany?"
she inquired sharply.

"Yes."

"There's no such person here."

It was Mountjoy's turn to be puzzled. "Is this Mr. Vimpany's house?" he
said.

"Yes, to be sure it is."

"And yet Mrs. Vimpany doesn't live here?"

"No Mrs. Vimpany has darkened these doors," the girl declared
positively.

"Are you sure you are not making a mistake?"

"Quite sure. I have been in the doctor's service since he first took
the house."

Determined to solve the mystery, if it could be done, Mountjoy asked if
he could see the doctor. No: Mr. Vimpany had gone out.

"There's a young person comes to us," the servant continued. "I wonder
whether you mean her, when you ask for Mrs. Vimpany? The name _she_
gives is Henley."

"Is Miss Henley here, now?"

"You can't see her--she's engaged."

She was not engaged with Mrs. Vimpany, for no such person was known in
the house. She was not engaged with the doctor, for the doctor had gone
out. Mountjoy looked at the hat-stand in the passage, and discovered a
man's hat and a man's greatcoat. To whom did they belong? Certainly not
to Mr. Vimpany, who had gone out. Repellent as it was, Mr. Henley's
idea that the explanation of his daughter's conduct was to be found in
the renewed influence over her of the Irish