the lamps into the sitting-room, though
she had forgotten to draw the curtains.

Enid knocked and rang. She had a theory that the possession of a latchkey
by their mistress makes servants slow to answer the door.

"There's a person waiting for you in the drawing-room, ma'am. She says
she's come down on purpose from London to see you. She came just after
you went out first."

There swept over Enid Crofton a strong, sudden premonition of evil. She
realised that for the last ten days she had been secretly dreading that
this would happen to her. She blamed herself sharply, now that it was too
late, for having done nothing further to help the Pipers; but she had
hoped the five pounds would have kept them quiet.

"I'll go upstairs and take off my things," she said wearily. "Bring me a
cup of tea in my bedroom--I don't want anything to eat--and then I'll
come down and see this person." She forced herself to add, "I suppose
it's a Mrs. Piper?"

The girl answered at once, "She didn't give her name, ma'am. She just
said that she wanted to see you, and that it was urgent. She's not got
very long; she wants to catch the six o'clock train from Telford. She
wouldn't believe at first that you wasn't in."

Enid found some comfort in those words, and she made up her mind that she
would linger upstairs as long as she possibly could, so as to cut short
her coming interview with the tiresome young woman. After all there was
very little to say. She had behaved in a kind and generous manner to her
late husband's servant, and she had already said she would do her best to
help him again.

When she got upstairs she lit the two high brass candlesticks on the
dressing-table, and then, after she had taken off her hat and long black
woollen coat, she sat down in her easy-chair by the wood fire. Soon there
came a familiar rap and a welcome cup of tea.

She was sipping it, luxuriously, when there suddenly came a very
different kind of rap on the door. It was a sharp, insistent knock,
and before she could call out "Come in," the door opened, and a
singular-looking figure advanced into the luxurious-looking,
low-ceilinged bedroom.

"Excuse me coming up like this, Modam. But I'm afraid of losing my
train."

The speaker was small and stout, with a sallow face which might once have
held a certain gipsy-like charm, for, in the candlelight, the luminous
dark eyes were by far its most arresting feature. She wore a small,
old-fashioned-looking, r