"Yes, he did. But from the time this woman called my father was silent and morose and irritable. I hope you won't think that I am undutiful, Mr. Hench, when I say that my father was not a pleasant-tempered man. But after the interview he became unbearable." "I never knew him when he was otherwise," cried the old lady, determined that Hench should know everything. "Madoc Evans was without doubt the most disagreeable person I have ever met. A bear would have had a more amiable temper." "Well, my father is dead," said Gwen coldly, "so it's no use calling him names." "Oh, I'll be a very tombstone for lying about the dead, if you like, my dear Gwen. But if Mr. Hench is to help he must know that your father was one of those uncomfortable men who never had a friend, and who never wanted one, so far as I know." "My father was eccentric," said Gwen, her colour coming and going as she explained herself to the young man. "And certainly he did not get on well with people. He quarrelled with my grandfather and with his brother Owain." "And with every one else," said Mrs. Perage. "After all Mynydd Evans would have done better to leave the money to Owain"--she stole a glance at Hench as she spoke. "He was a better man than Madoc." "Madoc was my father," said Gwen impatiently, "so please say as little bad of him as possible. And, after all, the estate has gone to my cousin, Owain's son, though I don't know why he doesn't come and take possession. What do you think is the reason, Mr. Hench?" "How can I tell the reason?" asked Hench awkwardly, and aware that Mrs. Perage was looking at him significantly. "Let us leave that fact alone for the present and talk of this woman who evidently upset your father. Who was she, Miss Evans?" "I have told you that my father refused to say." "Did you see her?" "I caught a glimpse of her when she went away from the Grange, as I happened to be looking out of the drawing-room window." "What was she like to look at?" "I didn't see her face. Her back was turned towards me, as she was going down the avenue." "Oh," said Hench disappointed, "that's a pity." "But I remember how she was dressed." "That's better. Well?" "She looked an untidy old thing," said Gwen, after a pause to recollect the appearance of this important stranger. "Very fat and unshapely. She wore a black dress spotted with orange dots, a black velvet mantle trimmed with jet beads, and a hat much too large for her, and----" She broke off. "What's the matter, Mr. Hench?" Owain's sudden change of colour and sudden start at this vivid description of Madame Alpenny betrayed him immediately, and he looked confused, not very well knowing how to excuse himself. For obvious reasons he did not wish to admit that he recognized the costume described. Therefore he took refuge in a white lie, and told the first one that occurred to him. "An idea struck me, Miss Evans, that your father might have been murdered by gipsies."