Queer things those sudden attacks; you never know when
they will come on or when they will go off again. Possibly his present
illness came just as suddenly. Did it?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," replied Miss Lorne. "I wasn't there when it
happened. Nobody was. Kathie and I had just gone into the refreshment
room at the railway station for tea-- Lord St. Ulmer said he didn't care
for any, and would just step round to the news stall and get an
afternoon paper--and when we came out there he was, poor man, sitting on
a seat and groaning. He stepped on a banana peel, he said, and turned
his ankle. A few minutes later Count de Louvisan put in an appearance.
He had arranged to join us at Liverpool Street Station, and, no doubt,
would have done so, but at the last minute Lord St. Ulmer had made up
his mind to journey up to town by an earlier train than originally
arranged. Anyway, his lordship made him go and wire to General Raynor
that he was afraid our visit would have to be postponed indefinitely, as
he had met with an accident and was going direct to the Savoy Hotel. Of
course the General came with his motor, and wouldn't listen to his
stopping there; so we all came on, as agreed, to Wuthering Grange. That
was the day before yesterday, and Lord St. Ulmer has been in bed ever
since."

"Very neat, very neat indeed," commented Cleek. "Couldn't tell me, I
suppose, where I might get a peep at-- I--er--mean who is the doctor
attending to him?"

"He hasn't a doctor. He wouldn't have one. He is a very obstinate man,
Mr. Cleek, and simply would not allow General Raynor to call in the
local practitioner. Claims that he brought some wonderful ointment with
him from Argentina which, as he phrases it, 'beats all the doctors
hollow in the matter of sprains and bruises'; and simply will not allow
anybody to do anything for him."

Cleek puckered up his brows. Obviously it would be useless to represent
himself as an assistant to the local doctor, or even to make himself up
to pass muster for that doctor himself, for the purpose of examining a
man who would not see any medical man upon any pretext whatsoever. And
yet---- He gave a little toss of his shoulders, as if to throw away
these fresh ideas, and came back again to Lady Katharine. What other
proof could he secure? Why had she played the 'cello at all at such a
time? Was it to secure that very string? Was it but a cloak to hide her
designs? A swift idea flashed across his mind, as he