by, who
suggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matters
came to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in the
sitting-room.

Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presence
in the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through the
languid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically in
a short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brown
leather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavy
laced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her fresh
complexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, she
looked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life felt
quite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess.

"Hallo, old fellow," cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style,
"feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?"

"The fever's up and I'm down," replied Lambert, who was glad to see her,
if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria,
my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days."

"You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?"

"I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me."

"Coddling you," muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in an
opposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh air
and exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. Defy
Nature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto."

"As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt your
prescription, Dr. Greeby," said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing in
these parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland."

"So I was," admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon--she
still carried it--across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport.
Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birds
are getting as silly as the men."

"Well, women knock them over easy enough."

"That's what I mean," said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rotten
world, this, unless one can get away into the wilds."

"Why don't you go there?"

"Well," Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and
dandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change from
the rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'm
on the trail as a detective."

Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line,
Clara."

Miss