“Why, yes. His body was found at the foot of the cliffs at Bournemouth about six o’clock this evening. Nobody saw him go over, apparently, but while I was at the Junior Carlton the man I was dining with, a friend of Froissart’s, got a telegram from a friend in Bournemouth saying that an open letter had just been found in the dead man’s pocket, in which he confessed that he was about to take his life. My friend says Froissart never really got over the shock of his daughter’s suicide--it was suicide in her case, too, of course. He also said that of late Froissart had been looking terribly ill and worried. It’s a good story, anyhow, and I think I have more facts than any other morning paper will get hold of. Lucky I happened to be dining with a man who knew Froissart intimately--what?” Next day the papers were full of the tragedy. Lord Froissart had, it seemed, left his house in Queen Anne’s Gate about eleven o’clock in the morning, the time he usually went out. He had called to see his lawyers, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, shortly before noon, and remained there about three quarters of an hour. From there he had gone, apparently on foot, to the Metropolitan Secret Agency, “the house with the bronze face,” and after interviewing Mr. Alix Stothert, head of that concern, had lunched alone at Frascati’s. He had caught the three thirty-seven train to Bournemouth, and after that nothing more was known until his body had been found at the foot of the cliffs by some children, who had at once run home and told their parents, who, in turn, had notified the police. All this the newspapers had succeeded in ferreting out before their late editions went to press. The report written by Hopford contained certain intimate and exclusive details, however. Lord Froissart had stayed late at the Junior Carlton the night before, writing one letter after another. A waiter of whom he had inquired at what times fast trains left for Bournemouth said he had thought his lordship seemed “excitable and nervy.” Before leaving the club, he added, deceased had pressed a five pound note into his hand, greatly to his surprise, for he had never before known Lord Froissart to infringe the club rules. In addition this report stated that the writer knew for a fact that Lord Froissart had on several occasions recently spoken about suicide, a subject in which he appeared suddenly to evince a deep interest. Further, he had asked a friend of the writer’s, two days previously, if he had any idea what height the highest cliffs at Bournemouth were, and if he had ever heard of any one committing suicide by jumping off them. A sealed letter found on the body was addressed in deceased’s handwriting to his elder and only surviving child, the Honorable Mrs. Ferdinand-Westrup, then living in Ceylon with her husband, who was a tea planter. No motive could be assigned for Lord Froissart’s having taken his life, though the shock of his daughter’s death the year before might have unhinged his mind.