Wynyard made no reply. Captain Ramsay’s wandering memory had evidently evoked a vision of his dark-eyed and remarkably pretty mother. She had run away with the handsome Hussar officer, and had, in consequence, been cast off by her relations. “Dead?” inquired the other after a pause. Wynyard nodded. “Ah, well, we shall all be dead one day--some sooner--and some later,” and he fell into one of his sudden silences. “I think he is better!” whispered his wife to Wynyard, as they parted at the hall door. “Didn’t he seem almost himself this evening? And he took great notice of Topsy and Darkie, and made their dinner himself.” Two days later, as the chauffeur was leaving Mrs. Hogben’s cottage after his midday meal, preparatory to getting ready the car, Mrs. Ramsay suddenly appeared at her gate and beckoned to him frantically. She looked white and frightened. “Jim went off this morning,” she began, “and hasn’t been home since. He never did this before. Oh, I _ought_ to have taken your advice,” and she wrung her hands. “I’ve been searching for him since eight o’clock.” “Did he speak to any one before he left the house?” inquired Wynyard. “No. Fanny saw him going out in a terrible hurry; he had on a pair of white gloves, and said he would be late for parade.” “Poor fellow!” “And the stupid girl never said one word to me till she brought me my hot water at eight o’clock.” “I’m just off with the car, taking Miss Susan to a croquet tournament, or I’d go and have a look round. What about the policeman?” “The policeman! Why, he cannot walk! He weighs sixteen stone.” “Well, anyway, if you don’t mind, I’ll send Tom Hogben and Jones; they know the country, and will keep a shut mouth. I’ll just tell them now,” and he hurried away. Although Miss Susan had no money wherewith to buy diamonds, sables, and motor cars, she contrived to extract a great deal of pleasure out of her elderly spinster life. She enjoyed mild little tea-parties, followed by bridge at sixpence a hundred--and received her partner’s scoldings with disarming humility. Her one passion was croquet. “Miss S. Parrett” was a notable player--her name appeared in print in connection with local tournaments; her arm was steady, her aim was deadly, and, not only this, she played the game with her head as well as with her hands.