his lines were of the kind that give the
amateur a splendid chance in modelling.

Mrs. Jervaise was taller and thinner than her husband, but lost something
by always carrying her head with a slight droop as if she were for ever
passing through a low doorway. Her features were sharper than his--she had
a high hawk nose and a thin line of a mouth--but either they were
carelessly arranged or their relative proportions were bad, for I never
felt the least desire to model her. Jervaise's face came out as a
presentable whole, my memory of his wife delivers the hawk nose as the one
salient object of what is otherwise a mere jumble.

Old Jervaise certainly looked the more aristocratic of the pair, but Mrs.
Jervaise was a woman of good family. She had been a Miss Norman before her
marriage--one of the Shropshire Normans.

* * * * *

The four people in the Hall looked as if they had reached the stage of
being dreadfully bored with each other when we arrived. They did not hear
us immediately, and as my momentary dream dissolved I had an impression of
them all as being on the verge of a heartrending yawn. They perked up
instantly, however, when they saw us, turning towards us with a movement
that looked concerted and was in itself a question.

Frank Jervaise, striding on ahead of me, answered at once, with a gloomy
shake of his head.

"Isn't she there?" his mother asked. And "Hasn't she been there at all?"
she persisted when Frank returned a morose negative.

"Who did you see?" put in young Turnbull.

"Miss Banks," Frank said.

"You are quite sure that Brenda hadn't been there?" Olive Jervaise added
by way of rounding up and completing the inquiry.

It was then Frank's turn to begin an unnecessary interrogation by saying
"She isn't here, then?" He must have known that she was not, by their
solicitude; but if he had not put that superfluous question, I believe I
should; though I might not have added as he did, "You're absolutely
certain?"

Young Turnbull then exploded that phase of the situation by remarking, "I
suppose you know that the car's gone?"

Frank was manifestly shocked by that news.

"Good Lord! no, I didn't. How do you know?" he said.

"I left my own car in the ditch, just outside the Park," Ronnie explained.
"Don't know in the least how it happened. Suppose I was thinking of
something else. Anyway, I've fairly piled her up, I'm afraid. I was coming
back from the vicarage,