id to you."

Mr. Melton smiled with well bred irony. "We shall see," he said. "In the
mean time, I presume I may ask you, in the interests of the family, to
send me the address on the letter, as soon as you hear from Miss Regina.
I have no other means of communicating with Mr. Farnaby. In respect to
the melancholy event, I may add that I have undertaken to provide for
the funeral, and to pay any little outstanding debts, and so forth. As
Mr. Farnaby's old friend and representative--"

The conclusion of the sentence was interrupted by the entrance of Toff
with a note, and an apology for his intrusion. "I beg your pardon, sir;
the person is waiting. She says it's only a receipt to sign. The box is
in the hall."

Amelius examined the enclosure. It was a formal document, acknowledging
the receipt of Sally's clothes, returned to her by the authorities at
the Home. As he took a pen to sign the receipt he looked towards the
door of Sally's room. Mr. Melton, observing the look, prepared to
retire. "I am only interrupting you," he said. "You have my address on
my card. Good evening."

On his way out, he passed an elderly woman, waiting in the hall. Toff,
hastening before him to open the garden gate, was saluted by the gruff
voice of a cabman, outside. "The lady whom he had driven to the cottage
had not paid him his right fare; he meant to have the money, or the
lady's name and address, and summon her." Quietly crossing the road, Mr.
Melton heard the woman's voice next: she had got her receipt, and had
followed him out. In the dispute about fares and distances that ensued,
the contending parties more than once mentioned the name of the Home and
of the locality in which it was situated. Possessing this information,
Mr. Melton looked in at his club; consulted a directory, under the
heading of "Charitable Institutions;" and solved the mystery of the
vanishing petticoats at the door. He had discovered an inmate of an
asylum for lost women, in the house of the man to whom Regina was
engaged to be married!

The next morning's post brought to Amelius a letter from Regina. It was
dated from an hotel in Paris. Her "dear uncle" had over estimated his
strength. He had refused to stay and rest for the night at Boulogne; and
had suffered so severely from the fatigue of the long journey that he
had been confined to his bed since his arrival. The English physician
consulted had declined to say when he would be strong enough to travel
ag