"They go down to the beach, and the old man, with evil chuckles, recalls a hitherto unpublished anecdote of mixed bathing in the 'seventies, in which Mrs. Sinclair and a flushed and startled Dr. Jenkinson, Greek in thought rather than action, play the chief parts, and then they wade through a nettle-bed to that 'small classical portico' which leads to the locked enclosure containing the three tombs, with effigies after the fashion of Genoa Cemetery. But the key of the gate is lost, so that they cannot go in to examine them, and the weeds have hidden the figures altogether. "'That's a pity,' some one remarks, 'for it's here, no doubt, that old Laurence lies, with his first mistress and his last--under these cypresses.' "The aged custodian makes a derisive noise, and every one turns to him. "'I gather you throw some doubt?' the Encyclopædist begins in his urbane way. "'Buried--under the cypresses--first mistress and last!' The old man makes his manner invincibly suggestive of scornful merriment. "'But isn't it so?' "'Bless y'r 'art, _no_! Mr. Laurence--buried! Mr. Laurence worn't never alive!' "'But there was a _young_ Mr. Laurence?' "'That was Mr. Mallup 'imself, that was! 'E was a great mistifier was Mr. Mallup, and sometimes 'e went about pretendin' to be Mr. Laurence and sometimes he was Mr. Leslie, and sometimes----But there, you'd 'ardly believe. 'E got all this up--cypresses, chumes, everythink--out of 'is 'ed. Po'try. Why! 'Ere! Jest come along 'ere, gents!' "He leads the way along a narrow privet alley that winds its surreptitious way towards an alcove. "'Miss Merton,' he says, flinging the door of this open. "'The Roman Catholic young person?' says Dr. Tomlinson Keyhole. "'Quite right, sir,' says the aged custodian. "They peer in. "Hanging from a peg the four visitors behold a pale blue dress cut in the fashion of the 'seventies, a copious 'chignon' of fair hair, large earrings, and on the marble bench a pair of open-work stockings and other articles of feminine apparel. A tall mirror hangs opposite these garments, and in a little recess convenient to the hand are the dusty and decaying materials for a hasty 'make-up.' "The old custodian watches the effect of this display upon the others with masked enjoyment. "'You mean Miss Merton _painted_?' said the Encyclopædist, knitting his brows. "'Mr. Mallup did,' says the aged custodian. "'You mean----?' "'Mr. Mallup was Miss Merton. 'E got _'er_ up too. Parst 'er orf as a young lady, 'e did. Oh, 'e was a great mistifier was Mr. Mallup. None of the three of 'em wasn't real people, really; he got 'em all up.' "'She had sad-looking eyes, a delicate, proud mouth, and a worn, melancholy look,' muses Mr. Archer. "'And young Laurence was in love with her,' adds the Encyclopædist....