oad I took an omnibus back to the Hotel Cecil in the Strand
where I had put up, tired and disappointed.

Next day I ran down to Chichester, and after some difficulty found the
Cheverton College for Ladies, a big old-fashioned house about
half-a-mile out of the town on the Drayton Road. The seminary was
evidently a first-class one, for when I entered I noticed how well
everything was kept.

To the principal, an elderly lady of a somewhat severe aspect, I said:

"I regret, madam, to trouble you, but I am in search of information you
can supply. It is with regard to a certain Elma Heath whom you had as
pupil here, and who left, I believe, about two years ago. Her parents
lived in Durham."

"I remember her perfectly," was the woman's response as she sat behind
the big desk, having apparently at first expected that I had a daughter
to put to school.

"Well," I said, "there has been some little friction in the family, and
I am making inquiries on behalf of another branch of it--an aunt who
desires to ascertain the girl's whereabouts."

"Ah, I regret, sir, that I cannot tell you that. The Baron, her uncle,
came here one day and took her away suddenly--abroad, I think."

"Had she no school-friend to whom she would probably write?"

"There was a girl named Leithcourt--Muriel Leithcourt--who was her
friend, but who has also left."

"And no one else?" I asked. "Girls often write to each other after
leaving school, until they get married, and then the correspondence
usually ceases."

The principal was silent and reflective.

"Well," she said at last, "there was another pupil who was also on
friendly terms with Elma--a girl named Lydia Moreton. She may have
written to her. If you really desire to know, sir, I dare say I could
find her address. She left us about nine months after Elma."

"I should esteem it a great favor if you would give me that young lady's
address," I said, whereupon she unlocked a drawer in her writing-table
and took therefrom a thick, leather-bound book which she consulted for a
few minutes, at last exclaiming:

"Yes, here it is--'Lydia Moreton, daughter of Sir Hamilton Moreton,
K.C.M.G., Whiston Grange, Doncaster.'" And she scribbled it in pencil
upon an envelope, and handing it to me, said:

"Elma Heath was, I fear, somewhat neglected by her parents. She remained
here for five years, and had no holidays like the other girls. Her
uncle, the Baron, came to see her several times, but on each occa