"Have you ever met my friend Raymond?" I inquired with an air of affected carelessness. "Not to my knowledge," she answered quite frankly. "How long ago did Hoefer leave?" I asked. "About an hour, I think. He has locked the door of the morning-room and taken the key with him," she added, laughing. She presented a pretty picture, indeed, in that half-darkened room, leaning back gracefully and smiling upon me. "He announced no fresh discovery?" "He spoke scarcely a dozen words." "But this mystery is a very disagreeable one for you who live here. I presume that you live with your cousin always?" "Yes," she responded. "After my father's death, some years ago, I came here to live with her." So her father was dead! The Tempter was not, as I had all along suspected, her father. I longed to take her in my arms and tell her the truth, that I was actually her husband and that I loved her. Yet, how could I? The mystery was so complicated, and so full of inscrutable points, that to make any such declaration must only fill her with fear of myself. We chatted on while I feasted my eyes upon her wondrous beauty. Had she, I asked myself, ever seen young Chetwode since her return to London? Did she really love him, or was he merely the harmless but necessary admirer which every girl attracts towards herself as a sort of natural instinct? The thought of him caused a vivid recollection of that night in Whitton Park to arise within me. Where was Tattersett--the man who had laughed at her when she had declared her intention of escaping him by suicide? Who was he? What was he? It occurred to me, now that I had learned some potent facts from her own lips, that my next course should be to find this man and investigate his past. By doing so I might elucidate the problem. Her ladyship, with a cry of welcome upon her lips, entered the room and sank, hot and fatigued, into a cosy armchair. "London is simply unbearable!" she declared. "It's ever so many degrees hotter than at Atworth, and in the Stores it is awfully stuffy. In the provision department butter, bacon, and things seem all melting away." "You'll be glad to get back again to Wiltshire," I laughed. "Very. We shall go by the night-mail to-morrow," she answered. "Why don't you come up and visit us, Doctor? My husband would be charmed to meet you I'm sure." "That's just what I've been saying, dear," exclaimed Beryl. "Do persuade Doctor Colkirk to come." "I am sure you are both very kind," I replied, "but at present I am in practice." "You can surely take a holiday," urged Beryl. "Do come. We would try to make it pleasant for you." Her persuasion decided me, and, after some further pressing on the part of her ladyship, I accepted the invitation with secret satisfaction, promising to leave in the course of a week or ten days. Then we fell to discussing the curious phenomena of the previous night, until, having again exhausted the subject, I rose to take my leave.