“I am very anxious about Ada,” Pearce had written. “I have written to the last address I had, and my letters have been returned, marked ‘Not known.’ I have now got a good appointment, and could I but find her Ada would marry me at once. She only refused me before because she was afraid of making me still poorer than I was. She is a noble girl, and has been shamefully treated. On your head be it, if she has come to grief in her fight with adversity. I wonder what my aunt, whom you used to pretend to love, would think if she could know that within two years of her death you have practically turned her only child into the streets, to make room for a professional adventuress, whom no one but you would have married?” Pearce Churchill knew that his letter would enrage his uncle. But he also hoped that it might have a salutary effect. The will which he heard read convinced him that his hope had not been quite in vain. Mr Calmour left all his property, subject to an annuity of one hundred per annum for his wife, to his nephew Pearce Churchill, on condition that he was married to Ada within three months of the testator’s death. Should this marriage not take place within the stipulated period, Ada and Pearce were to have one hundred per annum each, and everything else was to go to his wife absolutely, no less than five thousand a year being involved altogether. The stake was so big, and it seemed so monstrous that this hated interloper should succeed to the estates that had been in the Calmour family over three hundred years, that every effort was made to baffle her. We were speedily commissioned to discover Ada Calmour and put forth all our energies to the task. Indeed, we had been offered such a large sum in the event of success, that we engaged a colleague for me, in the person of a woman of thirty or thereabouts, who came to us with very good credentials. One of these we verified. The other reference had just started on a Continental tour when Mr White wrote to him, and was uncomeatable. But Mrs Deane was engaged, and proved herself so exceedingly smart that our firm soon congratulated itself on having secured her services. Just at this time the Calmour case was engrossing the greater part of my attention. We had advertised very freely, but our advertisements met with no response, and as one week after another passed, and all our plans for discovering Miss Calmour failed, we grew very anxious about the matter. The case was so exasperatingly disappointing, too. Several times we believed ourselves to be on the eve of discovery, and each time our expected triumph turned out to be a will-o’-the-wisp. Twice I journeyed to a distant town, feeling confident of meeting Miss Calmour. Each time she had disappeared and left no trace behind her, or at least so little that it was difficult to work upon. Three times Mrs Deane set off on a similar errand, and three times she returned with failure written on her face.