"Yes," Cicely answered, wondering why Rupert's first dreamy words "a restful soul," seemed to have no connection with the latter part of his sentence. "She suits Baba admirably. The poor baby is utterly woebegone without her. Baba calls Christina her pretty lady; and she has been crying her small heart out over her loss." "Miss Moore went away on Christmas night, you say?" "Yes; two nights ago. She took nothing with her in the way of luggage. She must have walked to the station. She went to Hansley. We have discovered that much, and she sat all night in the waiting-room, because there was no train till the early morning." "Then you know to what place she booked?" Rupert questioned. "She booked to Torne Junction; beyond there we cannot trace her. Cousin Arthur ramped all yesterday, and talked a great deal of bombastic nonsense. To-day, to my great relief, he and Cousin Ellen departed. But he still threatens the police. I am only hoping he may let the police question lapse for a day or two; he is very busy hunting down a derelict brother-in-law." "My dear Cicely, what do you mean--a derelict brother-in-law?" "I know nothing about the poor thing," Cicely spread out her hands, and laughed. "Cousin Arthur takes it for granted that I have his family history at my finger ends, and I can't remember that John ever told me whether Cousin Arthur ever had a brother-in-law. But the dear old man throws out mysterious hints about the derelict, who has evidently done something terrible, and he sighs and groans over his poor sister, the derelict's wife, but I don't know what has happened to either the sister or her husband. Meanwhile----" "Meanwhile, we have no right to let a young girl like Miss Moore lose herself or get into difficulties, if we can possibly prevent it," Rupert said. "Her running away was an undoubted blunder, but it is our business to find her, and try to set things straight. The difficulty is to know where to begin to look for her. Scotland Yard suggests itself as the place to which in common sense one should apply for help." "I don't want publicity and fuss if it can be avoided," Cicely said doubtfully. "Cousin Arthur's rigid sense of justice, makes him declare with unwavering obstinacy that it is a case for the police, the whole police, and nothing but the police. But being an ordinary silly, fluffy, little woman, I have the ordinary woman's horror of the law." "You are so entirely typical of the silly, fluffy woman," Rupert said drily, but looking at his cousin with affectionate, laughing eyes. "However, without bringing the majesty of the law to bear upon the theft, or rather supposed theft--for I don't myself believe in it--there is no reason why Scotland Yard should not help us to find Miss Moore. Perhaps I can induce Sir Arthur to hold his hand for the present about the accusation against her. He must be amenable to----"