I looked across at the man, who seemed to be reproaching the girl for her long absence. Almost at that moment he looked up and our eyes met for a brief instant. There seemed to be nothing in his gaze beyond a measure of polite and not too pointed interest. Nevertheless, when I looked away I begged Mr. Bundercombe to call for the bill. "I have had enough of this place!" I declared, a little abruptly. "Next time Eve goes to bed with a headache I shall take you to the club." * * * * * I was walking down Bond Street with Eve one morning when my suspicions as to Mr. Bundercombe and a certain matter were first roused. As we neared the Piccadilly end I distinctly saw him vanish through a doorway on the lefthand side. He was most carefully dressed and carried in his hand a long paper parcel that could contain nothing but flowers. Upon some excuse I prevailed upon Eve to cross the road. There was one small brass plate only on the side of the entrance through which Mr. Bundercombe had disappeared. It was scarcely larger than my hand and on it was engraved in very elegant characters: BLANCHE MANICURE. I made no comment at the time, but curiously enough that afternoon, as we sat out under the trees at Ranelagh, Eve referred to the subject of her parent. "Do you notice, Paul," she asked, "how much less we see of dad lately?" "He does seem to have been out a good deal," I admitted. She glanced at me. "You haven't any idea, I suppose--" The glance and her tone were quite sufficient for me. I hastened to disclaim all responsibility for Mr. Bundercombe. "Your father," I assured her, "has never treated me with less confidence. Whatever he may be doing at present, he is doing, let me assure you, entirely on his own responsibility." "Then I think, if you don't mind, please," she begged, "you must try and get him to take you into his confidence. Of course," she went on, watching idly a polo team canter into the field, "I do not wish you to feel that he is in any way a responsibility. On the other hand, it does seem so queer, Paul! He has taken to dressing most carefully and he leaves the house regularly every morning at ten o'clock." "You've no clew at all as to what he does with himself?" I asked. "None," she replied, "except that I never saw any one with such overmanicured nails as his. I never knew him to go to a manicurist in my life, but he is obviously going to one nearly every day now or he couldn't keep the polish on. If that helps in any way--" "It might," I admitted with a sigh. "There he is!" Eve exclaimed suddenly. "Coming toward us, too! Do please take this opportunity, Paul, and see if you can find out anything. You see, a week ago he seemed bored to tears, and now he has just that happy, contented expression which he wears all the time when he is really engaged in something outrageous. I will go and talk to your sister. I think she is over there with Captain Green."