The moment she arrived, she took charge of matters in characteristic fashion. The Count was too happy to interfere. Mr. Breese was not so pleased at events. He said he’d prefer to have an American for a son-in-law, but he had been too preoccupied to venture any but the mildest objections. Mr. Breese received a wire from a business associate, Gordon Rice, several days before the ceremony. An important transaction with some French industrialists was in progress, and Rice requested Mr. Breese’s presence in Paris. Realizing he could not desert his daughter at her wedding, he telegraphed Rice, inviting him to the ceremony, suggesting they could discuss the matter in Riga. Rice arrived, which accounts for his presence in the former Russian city. At that time, Guy Thomas had known Mrs. Breese only casually. She had met him several months before. He had come to Paris as gigolo to a harmless old lady who wanted to see the sights. But the harmless old lady discarded him in favor of a native guide, and Thomas was left without funds. He was struck with an inspiration and wired Mrs. Breese of his desire to be of assistance to her. Mrs. Breese, reflecting that she would be alone in Paris for several weeks after the ceremony, promptly hired him as her temporary social secretary--and Guy Thomas hurried to the feast. Upon consulting my notes, I find that the name of the man who was murdered was the Baron Peter Setovski, whose estates adjoined those of the Count Giering-Trelovitch. The murder took place two days after the marriage ceremony. The Baron Peter Setovski was not a guest at the wedding. He was the one man the Count had not invited. It was brought out later that the two men had quarrelled shortly before the wedding on some trivial boundary dispute, and the Count, who was hot-headed and impulsive, broke off all relations with his neighbor. The murder had taken place in the Baron’s bedroom, about midnight, two days after the lavish wedding ceremony which is still recalled in Riga for its prodigal splendor. The Baron was found slumped upon the floor of his bedroom, shot through the heart. None of the numerous servants had heard the shot. The only visitor the Baron had received that night was the Count Giering-Trelovitch. Examined by the police, the Count said that he had gone to his neighbor offering reconciliation. The Count could not explain satisfactorily why he had chosen the hour of midnight for such a mission except that he always did things impulsively. He said he had been so profoundly happy that the quarrel with his neighbor disturbed him, and when everyone had gone to bed he had ridden over to the Baron’s estate to see him. He said that the breach had been healed, the Baron had drunk a glass of vodka with him in friendship, and he, the Count, had returned to his home and his bride.