er husband together again, but discreet enough
to have kept the matter quiet as yet. And he explained how it came
about that this young lady knew only the address in Stanhope Gardens.

After reflecting upon that, Greenacre urged that it would be just as
well not to take the young lady into their counsel for the present, to
which his friend readily assented. And so, when they had chatted a
little longer, the man of mystery rose "to keep an appointment." Gammon
should hear from him in a day or two.

When ten days had gone by without the fulfilment of this promise Gammon
grew uneasy. He could not communicate with Greenacre, having no idea'
where the man lived or where he was to be heard of; an inquiry at the
Bilboes proved that he was not known there. One evening Gammon went to
look for himself at the house in Stanhope Gardens; he hung about the
place for half an hour, but saw nothing of interest or importance. He
walked once or twice along Shaftesbury Avenue, but did not chance to
meet Polly, and could not make up his mind to beg an interview with
her. At the end of a fortnight Greenacre wrote, and that evening they
met again at the obscure house of entertainment.

"It is not often," said Greenacre, in a despondent tone, "that I have
found an inquiry so difficult. Of course it interests me all the more,
and I shall go on with it, but I must freely confess that I've got
nothing yet--absolutely nothing."

Gammon observed him vigilantly.

"Do you know what has occurred to me?" pursued the other, with a half
melancholy droop of the head. "I really begin to fear that the young
lady, your friend, may have made a mistake."

"How can that be, when he met her twice and talked with her?"

"You didn't tell me that," replied Greenacre, as if surprised.

"No, I didn't mention it. I thought it was enough to tell you she spied
him at the theatre."

He added a brief account of what had happened between Polly and her
uncle, Greenacre listening as if this threw new light on the case.

"Then the mistake is mine. It's more interesting than ever. This puts
me on my mettle, Gammon. Don't lose courage. I have a wonderful scent
in this kind of thing. Above all, not a word to anybody--you understand
the importance of _that_?"

"That's all right."

"I have a theory--oh, yes, there's a theory. Without a theory nothing
can be done. I am working, Gammon, on the scientific principle of
induction."

"Oh, are you!"

"Strictly; it has n