from _you_. There! there! Think
of it!--think of it!"

"Now, then!" said Mr. Troy, waiting for his companion, with the door
open in his hand. He looked back at Sharon when Moody joined him. The
old vagabond was settled again in his armchair, with his dog in his
lap, his pipe in his mouth, and his French novel in his hand; exhibiting
exactly the picture of frowzy comfort which he had presented when his
visitors first entered the room.

"Good-day," said Mr. Troy, with haughty condescension.

"Don't interrupt me!" rejoined Old Sharon, absorbed in his novel.
"You've had your guinea's worth. Lord! what a lovely book this is! Don't
interrupt me!"

"Impudent scoundrel!" said Mr. Troy, when he and Moody were in the
street again. "What could my friend mean by recommending him? Fancy his
expecting me to trust him with ten pounds! I consider even the guinea
completely thrown away."

"Begging your pardon, sir," said Moody, "I don't quite agree with you
there."

"What! you don't mean to tell me you understand that oracular sentence
of his--'Suspect the very last person on whom suspicion could possibly
fall.' Rubbish!"

"I don't say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me thinking."

"Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?"

"If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait a
while before I answer that."

Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little
distrustfully.

"Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?" he
asked.

"There's nothing I won't turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in this
matter," Moody answered, firmly. "I have saved a few hundred pounds in
Lady Lydiard's service, and I am ready to spend every farthing of it, if
I can only discover the thief."

Mr. Troy walked on again. "Miss Isabel seems to have a good friend in
you," he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little offended by
the independent tone in which the steward spoke, after he had himself
engaged to take the vindication of the girl's innocence into his own
hands.

"Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!" Moody answered,
with passionate enthusiasm.

"Very creditable; I haven't a word to say against it," Mr. Troy
rejoined. "But don't forget that the young lady has other devoted
friends besides you. I am her devoted friend, for instance--I have
promised to serve her, and I mean to keep my word. You will excuse me
for adding that my experience and