“And do you know, I feel so terribly upset,” was her pathetic protest, “that I would give anything not to have had to go on with my own garden party to-morrow. And I don’t like to say it, but it is a fact that I may also have included the thief in my invitation, and it would be awful if more things were to be stolen. Whatever shall I do?” As no practical advice seemed to be forthcoming, Madame Duchesne studied for a moment, and then announced her intention of employing a detective. “Not a real, horrid policeman,” she averred, “but one of those extraordinary individuals who seem able to look through and through you, and who can find anything out. Private detectives, I think they call them.” Madame von Auerbach looked up eagerly, but I gave her a warning glance which caused her to postpone the revelation of my identity which she had felt prompted to make. “Do you know any of these people?” was the Frenchwoman’s appeal to me. “Can you help me to the address of one?” “There are several firms of private detectives in London, if we are to judge from their advertisements,” I answered. “I have heard of Messrs Bell and White, of Holborn, spoken of as fairly good, but, of course, there are plenty of others equally good, or probably better.” “Bell and White, Holborn. Yes, I will try them. Thank you so much for helping me. May I ask if you live in London?” Seizing my cue, Madame von Auerbach promptly came to my assistance. “I am very angry with Miss Gresham,” she averred. “Since she resigned her post as governess to the Duke of Solothurn’s children, she has hardly deigned to take any notice of the numerous friends she made in Germany. But I mean to make her stay a few days with me, now that she has come to see me.” “Then you must bring her with you to my garden party,” said Madame Duchesne, and the invitation so cleverly angled for was accepted with a faint pretence of hesitation at the idea of inflicting myself upon the hospitality of a total stranger. After Madame Duchesne’s departure I congratulated Madame von Auerbach very warmly upon her tact and presence of mind, and arranged to visit the garden party as her friend the next day. In due course the interesting function was in full swing, and the fascinating hostess had quite a crowd of guests to look after. My “guarantor” had left me, at my own request, to my own devices. I wanted to look about me, and to note all that was going on, without being too much in evidence myself. Presently Madame Duchesne approached me with a very mysterious air, and introduced a very handsome man to my notice. “Don’t be shocked,” she whispered, “But this is the private detective, Mr Bell. I communicated with him at once after leaving Madame von Auerbach’s yesterday, and he is here to watch that no pickpocket secures booty here. Isn’t it too dreadful to have to take such precautions? I will never give another party in London!”