"Oh, about fifteen--all rather jolly people. It's such a charming place. Nora must ask you down there." "I should be delighted," I said. Now that I had money in my pocket, and was no longer compelled to toil for the bare necessities of life, I was eager to get away from the heat and dust of the London August. This suggestion of hers was to me doubly welcome too, for as a visitor at Atworth I should be always beside her. That she was in peril was evident, and my place was near her. On the other hand, however, I distrusted her ladyship. She had, at the first moment of our meeting, shown herself to be artificial and an admirable actress. Indeed, had she not, for purposes known best to herself, endeavoured to start a flirtation with me? Her character everywhere was that of a smart woman--popular in society, and noted for the success of her various entertainments during the season; but women of her stamp never commended themselves to me. Doctors, truth to tell, see rather too much of the reverse of the medal--especially in social London. "When did you return from Wiltshire?" I inquired, determined to clear up one point. "The day before yesterday," she responded. "In the evening?" "No, in the morning." Then her ladyship had lied to me, for she had said they had arrived in London on the morning of the day when the unknown woman in black had called. Beryl had told the truth, and her words were proved by the statement of Bob Raymond that he had seen her pass along Rowan Road. Were they acquaintances? As I reflected upon that problem one fact alone stood out above all others. If I had been unknown to Wynd and that scoundrel Tattersett, how was it that they were enabled to give every detail regarding myself in their application for the marriage licence? How, indeed, did they know that I was acting as Bob's _locum tenens_? Or how was the Tempter so well aware of my penury? No. Now that my friend had betrayed himself, I felt convinced that he knew something of the extraordinary plot in which I had become so hopelessly involved. "The day before yesterday," I said, looking her straight in the face, "you came to Hammersmith to try to find me." She started quickly, but in an instant recovered herself. "Yes," she admitted. "I walked through Rowan Road, expecting to find your plate on one of the doors, but could not." "I have no plate," I answered. "When I lived there I was assistant to my friend. Doctor Raymond." "Raymond!" she exclaimed. "Oh yes, I remember I saw his name; but I was looking for yours." "You wished to see me?" "Yes; I was not well," she faltered. "But your cousin knew that I had lived with Raymond. Did you not ask her?" "No," she answered, "it never occurred to me to do so." Rather a lame response, I thought. "But last night she found me quite easily. She called upon Doctor Raymond, who gave her my new address." And, continuing, I told her of my temporary abode. "I know," she replied.