The second hansom was waiting and drew close up to the curb as the other drove off. "132, Cannon Street, shouted Lawrence, "goodbye Miss Winston, be sure and write to Gladys if you are in trouble, I am going there myself late tonight as unfortunately I must go back to Richmond to see about Mr. Palsey." "Thank you very very much" replied Helen the tears gathering in her pretty eyes as she spoke. But she soon wiped them away and leaning back in the comfortable hansom she commenced to hum a little tune as she arranged her ruffled hair at the little looking glass. Little did she dream how very soon she would have to avail herself of Lawrence's offer. A dismal sleet had begun to fall and being tired Helen was not sorry when the hansom stopped at the dreary looking office. Lawrence had already paid the man so Helen had only to collect her parcels and get out. A light was shining in the office room and also in Cyril's bed-room which was just above it. "How very strange" thought Helen as she mounted the steps. Before she had time to lay her hand on the bell the door was violently opened from within and there stood Netherby, looking very pale and trembling from head to foot. "Oh come in Miss, do come in" he cried in an agitated voice as Helen stood staring at his strange appearance. "Why Netherby, what _is_ the matter?" cried Helen entering the passage and closing the door behind her. "Oh dont ask me miss, please dont let me be the first to tell you" cried Netherby and the poor man clung for support to the door handle. "Very well, dont distress yourself" said Helen kindly and calmly and seeing there was no more information to be got from him, she entered the office. It seemed to be in a state of utter confusion; papers littered the whole room, Cyril's tea stood untouched by his desk, and Cyril's own private chest was wide open and Wilson the other clerk was cooly reading the papers and documents within. He glanced over his shoulder as Helen entered and with an insolent grin returned to the parchment in his hand. All Helen's pride and dignity was roused in a moment. "Wilson!" she cried with an impatient movement of her hands, but keeping perfectly cool the while "oblige me by telling me the meaning of this conduct." "The explanation is there" replied the clerk pointing to a half sheet of paper lying on the desk. It was a common bit of ruled paper and by the ragged edge had evidently been hastily torn from a note book; a pin was run through the top of the paper showing it had been attached to something. "Where did you find this" enquired Helen before reading it. "We found it pinned to Mr. Sheene's desk addressed to you miss," replied Netherby who had entered the room, "it was Mrs. Marshland who told us to open it. "Very well" said Helen, and she read as follows.