“DEAR PRINCESS” (it ran),--“I am very much obliged to you for the companion glove, as I am thus enabled to keep one and use the other as a clue. I see you not only know who the mysterious young lady is, but that you have since met her, or at least have been in correspondence with her. If the glove does not lead me to the hand, I shall pay a visit to you in the hope that you will atone for your present cruelty by telling me where to find the owner of both glove and hand.” With regard to this note the Princess had written, “Don is not such a fool as I took him to be. He must have improved during the last few years. I wish you would write and tell me exactly what he said to you that evening.” But with this wish Jennie did not comply. She merely again urged the Princess never to divulge the secret. For many days Jennie heard nothing more from any of the actors in the little comedy, and the episode began to take on in her thoughts that air of unreality which remote events seem to gather round them. She went on with her daily work to the satisfaction of her employers and the augmentation of her own banking account, although no experience worthy of record occurred in her routine for several weeks. But a lull in a newspaper office is seldom of long duration. One afternoon Mr. Hardwick came to the desk at which Jennie was at work, and said to her,-- “Cadbury Taylor called here yesterday, and was very anxious to see you. Has he been in again this afternoon?” “You mean the detective? No, I haven’t seen him since that day at the Schloss Steinheimer. What did he want with me?” “As far as I was able to understand, he has a very important case on hand--a sort of romance in high life; and I think he wants your assistance to unravel it; it seems to be baffling him.” “It is not very difficult to baffle Mr. Cadbury Taylor,” said the girl, looking up at her employer with a merry twinkle in her eye. “Well, he appears to be in a fog now, and he expressed himself to me as being very much taken with the neat way in which you unravelled the diamond mystery at Meran, so he thinks you may be of great assistance to him in his present difficulty, and is willing to pay in cash or in kind.” “Cash payment I understand,” said the girl, “but what does he mean by payment in kind?” “Oh, he is willing that you should make a sensational article out of the episode. It deals entirely, he says, with persons in high life--titled persons--and so it might make an interesting column or two for the paper.” “I see--providing, of course, that the tangled skein was unravelled by the transcendent genius of Mr. Cadbury Taylor,” said the girl cynically.