illumination had been made and these festoons hung, had been turned away
from the gates, and the few who felt they must remain, because their
hostess showed no disposition to let them go, wore any but holiday
faces, for all their forced smiles and pitiful attempts at nonchalance
and gaiety.

I scrutinised these faces carefully. I detected nothing in them but
annoyance at a situation which certainly was anything but pleasant.

Turning to Mrs. Ashley, I requested her to be kind enough to point out
her son, adding that I should be glad to have a moment's conversation
with him before I spoke to Mr. Deane.

"That will give Mr. Deane time to compose himself. He is quite upset.
Not even Mrs. Burton can comfort him. My son--oh, there is Harrison!"

A tall, fine-looking young man was crossing the hall. Mrs. Ashley
beckoned to him, and in another moment we were standing together in one
of the empty parlours. I gave him my name and told him my business. Then
I said:

"Your mother has allotted me an hour in which to find the valuable jewel
which has just been lost on these premises." Here I smiled. "She
evidently has great confidence in my ability. I must see that I do not
disappoint her."

All this time I was examining his face. It was not only handsome, but
expressive of great candour. The eyes looked straight into mine, and,
while showing anxiety, betrayed no deeper emotion than the occasion
naturally called for.

"Have you any suggestions to offer? I understand that you were on the
ground almost as soon as Mr. Deane discovered his loss."

His eyes changed a trifle, but did not swerve. Of course, he had been
informed by his mother of the suspicious action of the young lady who
had been a member of that gentleman's party, and shrank, as any one in
his position would, from the responsibilities entailed by this
knowledge.

"No," said he. "We have done all we can. The next move must come from
you."

"I know of one that will settle the matter at once," I assured him,
still with my eyes fixed scrutinisingly on his face--"a universal
search, not of places, but of persons. But it is a harsh measure."

"A most disagreeable one," he emphasised, flushing. "Such an indignity
offered to guests would never be forgotten or forgiven."

"True. But if they offered to submit to this themselves?"

"They? How?"

"If _you_, the son of the house--their host, we may say--should call
them together, and for your own satisfaction empty