“Oh, yes, we have letters. That is how we know the different towns they visited. The last one is from the lady. She announces the birth of a daughter, who is named after herself.” “What name might that be?” inquired Peace, carelessly, removing the superfluous gold from the frame. “Aveline,” returned the detective. “Aveline!” exclaimed Peace, in a tone of surprise, which he found it impossible to suppress. “Yes. Have you ever met with one bearing that name?” eagerly inquired Mr. Wrench, who was at no loss to comprehend that one chance shot had told. “Yes, I think so. The name seems familiar to me.” “My dear sir,” exclaimed the detective, rising from his Windsor chair, and approaching nearer to his companion, “if you can let me know about this person you shall be rewarded handsomely. It is a most uncommon name, and it may furnish us with a clue to the missing person.” “It is not a very common name, I admit; but then there may be hundreds of persons who bear it.” “You know one, it would seem. Can you tell me where she’s to be found?” “You take me by surprise,” observed Peace; “and I cannot quite call to mind just at present where I met with such a person. I know it must be a long time ago. I will think the matter over, and see if I can assist you.” Mr. Wrench saw plainly enough that Peace was not to be caught tripping――he was too wary a customer for that; he therefore deemed it advisable not to press the question further at that time. He therefore said, in an off-hand manner―― “Well, you will see what you can do for me, like a good fellow, as I am told you are, and so farewell for the present.” “Aveline!” ejaculated our hero, when he found himself once more alone. “What can be the meaning of this inquiry? He cannot be in search of the Aveline Maitland I knew――and loved,” he added in a tone of dejection; “but no, that is not possible.” Peace was fairly puzzled. He had no predilection for detectives. They were a class of men whose acquaintance he had no desire to cultivate. When his day’s work was finished he returned to the “Carved Lion.” “The vicar has been here inquiring for you,” said Brickett. “I told him where you worked, but he said he would call here again later on.” “The vicar――and what might he want? Going to give me an order for some Oxford frames, I suppose――eh?” “No, I don’t think so. It’s private business, I believe. You see, old man, people are beginning to take notice of you.” In less that an hour after Peace’s return Canon Lenthal called again at the inn. He was shown into a private room in which our hero was seated. The vicar was introduced by Brickett. “You will pardon this intrusion, sir, I hope,” said the minister, “but I wait upon you at the request of Lord Ethalwood, whom I believe you have some knowledge of.” “I’ve worked for his lordship.”