d he
conducted this mysterious visitor upstairs.

On rejoining Buttons in the hall he solemnly observed:

"That's a swell cop who is with the missus--shining topper, button-hole,
buckskin gloves, patent leathers, all complete. Footmen ain't in it with
the force, nowadays."

Jeames expanded his magnificent waistcoat with a heavy sigh over this
philosophical dictum, the poignancy of which was enhanced by his
knowledge that the upper housemaid had taken to conversing with a
mounted policeman in the Park during her afternoons off.

The apartment in which Brett found himself gave ready indications of the
character of its tenants. Tod's "Rajasthan" jostled a volume of the
Badminton Library on the bookshelves, a copy of the Allahabad _Pioneer_
lay beside the _Field_ and the _Times_ on the table, and many
varieties of horns made trophies with quaint weapons on the walls.

A complete edition of Ruskin, and some exquisite prints of Rossetti's
best known works, supplied a different set of emblems, whilst the room
generally showed signs of daily occupation.

"Anglo-Indian uncle, artistic niece," was the barrister's rapid comment,
but further analysis was prevented by the entrance of Miss Edith Talbot.

The surprise of the pair was mutual.

Brett expected to see a young, pretty and clever girl, vain enough to
believe she had brains, and sufficiently well endowed with that rare
commodity to be able to twist the good-natured Earl of Fairholme round
her little finger.

Young, not more than twenty--unquestionably beautiful, with the graceful
contour and delicately-balanced features of a portrait by Romney--Edith
Talbot bore few of the marks that pass current as the outward and
visible signs of a modern woman of Society. That she should be
self-possessed and dressed in perfect taste were as obvious adjuncts of
her character as that each phase of her clear thought should reflect
itself in a singularly mobile face.

To such a woman pretence was impossible, the polite fictions of
fashionable life impossible. Brett readily understood why the Earl of
Fairholme had fallen in love with this fair creature. He had simply
bent in worship before a goddess of his own creed.

To the girl, Brett was equally a revelation.

Fairholme's introductory note described the barrister as "the smartest
criminal lawyer in London--one whose aid would be invaluable." She
expected to meet a sharp-featured, wizened, elderly man, with
gold-rimmed eye-gl