ritten such a letter to Noel," said Agnes quietly, "it
certainly would have been delivered by hand."

"In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger," put in Miss
Greeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have got
hold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up."

"Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I never
wrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it."

"It was written from The Manor, anyhow," said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Look
at the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if you
didn't."

"I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen."

"Well." Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There's
something in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in the
park, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. I
wonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house."

"Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter."

"She might have got somebody to do so," suggested Miss Greeby, nodding.

"Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting,"
retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely.

She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style of
writing. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signed
herself "Agnes Pine," would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the blue
door, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor at
the park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sure
to get a divorce," ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once and
be happy ever more."

It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully.

"I don't express myself in that way," she said contemptuously, and
still eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband and
respect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin,
especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and safer
chances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never have
believed that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at the
park gates,'" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to the
blue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I never
heard such rubbish," and she folded up the letter to slip it into her
pocket.

Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me," she
said hurriedly. "I have to look into