"Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he cried, "let us act like sensible people. Compose yourself, order in some tea, and after an interlude I will tell you all about it. Candor is an indispensable element of confidence." Mrs. Hillmer rose, made an effort to choke back her agitation, went out, and called to the maid for tea. She returned in a few moments. When they were alone Bruce said, with a smile: "A little _poudre de ris_ is an excellent corrective for signs of grief." The lady blushed, and there was a perceptible return to her former pleasant manner. "You are incorrigible, I fear," she cried. "Not a bit. Impressionable, rather. Now, I am going to startle you considerably, so be prepared. And do not jump at conclusions. Though startling, my news is not alarming. All may yet end well." Mrs. Hillmer was manifestly anxious, but she promised to try to understand him fully before she formed any judgment. "Then," said he, "I can clear the air a good deal by a simple statement. Mr. White is no agent of mine, and I have seen your brother, Albert Mensmore, at Monte Carlo." Mrs. Hillmer gave a little gasp of surprise. "You have seen Bertie?" "Yes; your brother, is he not?" "My half-brother, to be exact. My father was married twice. I--I am the elder of the two by four years." "Apart from the compliment, you do not look it. But what you say explains the total absence of likeness between you." "Possibly. People said we each resembled our mother. And Bertie, you know, has led a somewhat adventurous career. He roughed it a good deal in America. But what has all this got to do with detectives, and recent inquiries, and that sort of thing?" "Much. The last time we met I told you that your brother was mixed up in some little affair with a lady." Mrs. Hillmer laughed, a trifle constrainedly. "If you knew Bertie as well as I do, you would not harbor suspicions concerning him. He never had a love affair in his life. Indeed, he is something of a woman-hater." "No doubt he was. But he has changed his opinions. He is in love, and is engaged to be married to a very charming girl. Thus far, his beliefs and his good fortune have pulled against each other." "Bertie engaged to be married! Good gracious! Who is she? And how can he support a wife? He is poor, and in debt, and he won't even let me help him." "I have stated the facts, nevertheless. The lady is a daughter of Sir William Browne, and they are now yachting with a large party in the Mediterranean." "Are her people against the match? Is that why this Scotland Yard man--?" "No. Mensmore is on board Sir William's yacht. But there is another lady, missing from her home for nearly three months, who is believed to be dead--murdered, the police say--and with whom your brother was in some indefinable way associated." "Do they dare to say that Bertie killed her?" Mrs. Hillmer's color rose and her eyes flashed fire again.