For a moment I thought that the young widow hesitated, then, without a word, she rose and rang the bell. “Which of my servants did you wish to see?” she asked, turning to my dear lady as soon as the butler entered in answer to the bell. “Your own maid and your parlour-maid, if I may,” replied Lady Molly. Lady Irene gave the necessary orders, and we all sat expectant and silent until, a minute or two later, two girls entered the room. One wore a cap and apron, the other, in neat black dress and dainty lace collar, was obviously the lady’s maid. “This lady,” said their mistress, addressing the two girls, “wishes to ask you a few questions. She is a representative of the police, so you had better do your best to satisfy her with your answers.” “Oh!” rejoined Lady Molly pleasantly--choosing not to notice the tone of acerbity with which the young widow had spoken, nor the unmistakable barrier of hostility and reserve which her words had immediately raised between the young servants and the “representative of the police”--“what I am going to ask these two young ladies is neither very difficult nor very unpleasant. I merely want their kind help in a little comedy which will have to be played this evening, in order to test the accuracy of certain statements made by one of the waitresses at Mathis’ tea shop with regard to the terrible tragedy which has darkened this house. You will do that much, will you not?” she added, speaking directly to the maids. No one can be so winning or so persuasive as my dear lady. In a moment I saw the girls’ hostility melting before the sunshine of Lady Molly’s smile. “We’ll do what we can, ma’am,” said the maid. “That’s a brave, good girl!” replied my lady. “You must know that the chief waitress at Mathis’ has, this very morning, identified the woman in the big hat who, we all believe, murdered your late master. Yes!” she continued, in response to a gasp of astonishment which seemed to go round the room like a wave, “the girl seems quite positive, both as regards the hat and the woman who wore it. But, of course, one cannot allow a human life to be sworn away without bringing every possible proof to bear on such a statement, and I am sure that everyone in this house will understand that we don’t want to introduce strangers more than we can help into this sad affair, which already has been bruited abroad too much.” She paused a moment; then, as neither Lady Irene nor the maids made any comment, she continued: “My superiors at Scotland Yard think it their duty to try and confuse the witness as much as possible in her act of identification. They desire that a certain number of ladies wearing abnormally large hats should parade before the waitress. Among them will be, of course, the one whom the girl has already identified as being the mysterious person who had tea with Mr. Culledon at Mathis’ that afternoon.