“What do you mean by ‘no, sir?’ I say――――” A light broke upon Mr. Billings. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Ethan,” he explained hurriedly. “I see your mistake, sir, but you said as how you’d met the young lady, and I thought you understood as how that wasn’t her, sir.” “What? Who?” “Wasn’t Miss Devereux, sir.” “Do you mean that this isn’t Miss Devereux here in this picture?” cried Ethan. “Yes, sir; that is, no, sir. That isn’t her, Mr. Ethan.” “Isn’t――! Then who is it?” “Miss Hoyt, sir. I thought you under――――” Ethan took Billings by the arms and forced him into a chair. “You sit there and answer my questions, Billings,” he commanded excitedly. He held the photograph before the gardener’s alarmed face. “Who is this in the picture?” “Miss Hoyt, sir, as I was telling you――――” “Nonsense! You’re mistaken, man! Look close; take it in your hands! Don’t answer until you’ve looked at it well. Where are your spectacles?” “I don’t wear any, sir,” was the dignified reply. “My eyes, Mr. Ethan, are just as clear as ever they were, sir. Why, I can see――――” “Yes, yes, I beg your pardon, Billings, but I have most particular reasons for wanting to be certain about this! Now――take a good look at it!――now who is she?” “Miss Hoyt, sir, and if you was to put me in jail the next minute, sir, I wouldn’t say different! No, sir, not if my life was depending on it, sir!” [Illustration] “And it’s not Miss Devereux?” “No, sir, nor never was! Why, Mr. Ethan, Miss Devereux, as you must recall, sir, is quite tall and slim, like――like a young birch, sir,――with very dark hair. And Miss Hoyt, sir, as you can see――――” Ethan planted himself with his back to the fire and lighted a cigarette with trembling fingers. “Billings,” he said softly, “I’ve been a damned fool!” “Yes――that is, I can’t believe it, sir,” was the respectful answer. But Billings’ expression said otherwise. “Now I want you to tell me all you know about Miss Hoyt,” said Ethan. “By the way, what was her first name?” “Cicely, sir; Miss Cicely Hoyt.” “Cicely,” repeated Ethan softly. “It just suits her!” “Beg pardon, sir?” “Oh, never mind. Where does she live?” Billings thought in silence a moment. “Ellington, sir,” he answered triumphantly, evidently pleased at his powers of memory. “Where the deuce is that, though?” “About the centre of the state, sir, I think.” “This state, do you mean? Massachusetts?” “Yes, sir, Massachusetts.” “And she was a friend of Miss Devereux’s?” “Yes, sir. I gathered as how they went to school together. And Miss Hoyt’s father, sir, died a while back and left her and her mother very poorly off, sir. And the young lady is employed in a library at Ellington, as I understand it, sir, and her mother is there, too, sir.” “In the library?” “No, sir, in Ellington. They used to live in Ohio, I believe.” Ethan was silent a moment, smoking furiously. Then,