These last words were in a whisper, as she evidently did not wish Arthur to hear. But of this there seemed to be little risk: he hardly seemed to notice the children, but paced on, silent and abstracted; and when, at the entrance to the wood, they bid us a hasty farewell and ran off, he seemed to wake out of a day-dream. The bouquet vanished, as Sylvie had predicted; and when, a day or two afterwards, Arthur and I once more visited the Hall, we found the Earl and his daughter, with the old housekeeper, out in the garden, examining the fastenings of the drawing-room window. “We are holding an Inquest,” Lady Muriel said, advancing to meet us: “and we admit you, as Accessories before the Fact, to tell us all you know about those flowers.” “The Accessories before the Fact decline to answer _any_ questions,” I gravely replied. “And they reserve their defence.” “Well then, turn Queen’s Evidence, please! The flowers have disappeared in the night,” she went on, turning to Arthur, “and we are _quite_ sure no one in the house has meddled with them. Somebody must have entered by the window——” “But the fastenings have not been tampered with,” said the Earl. “It must have been while you were dining, my Lady,” said the housekeeper. “That was it,” said the Earl. “The thief must have seen you bring the flowers,” turning to me, “and have noticed that you did _not_ take them away. And he must have known their great value—they are simply _priceless_!” he exclaimed, in sudden excitement. “And you never told us how you got them!” said Lady Muriel. “Some day,” I stammered, “I may be free to tell you. Just now, would you excuse me?” The Earl looked disappointed, but kindly said “Very well, we will ask no questions.” [Illustration: FIVE O’CLOCK TEA] “But we consider you a _very_ bad Queen’s Evidence,” Lady Muriel added playfully, as we entered the arbour. “We pronounce you to be an accomplice: and we sentence you to solitary confinement, and to be fed on bread and—butter. Do you take sugar?” “It is disquieting, certainly,” she resumed, when all ‘creature-comforts’ had been duly supplied, “to find that the house has been entered by a thief—in this out-of-the-way place. If only the flowers had been _eatables_, one might have suspected a thief of quite another shape——” “You mean that universal explanation for all mysterious disappearances, ‘the _cat_ did it’?” said Arthur. “Yes,” she replied. “What a convenient thing it would be if all thieves had the same shape! It’s so confusing to have some of them quadrupeds and others bipeds!” “It has occurred to me,” said Arthur, “as a curious problem in Teleology—the Science of Final Causes,” he added, in answer to an enquiring look from Lady Muriel. “And a Final Cause is——?” “Well, suppose we say—the last of a series of connected events—each of the series being the cause of the next—for whose sake the first event takes place.”