"The detectives are a shrewd lot for worming secrets out of people," said Shelton, with one of his non-committal smiles. "I used much _finesse_ with the old man before I made my discovery. I suppose I may feel safe in supposing that you will not molest him at the present critical time? Much depends on secrecy." "The case is in your hands--rest assured I shall not make any disastrous move in it," returned Mr. Lawrence, reassuringly. "One thing further," said Mr. Shelton. "I learned that the man who enacted the hypocritical _role_ of the despairing lover was tall and dark, but have not succeeded in identifying him yet. That is the meager extent of my information at present." "I hope and trust it may soon lead to an entire elucidation of the mystery," said the banker, rising to leave. "I will report all discoveries tending that way immediately, sir," answered the detective, bowing his visitors out of the office. "How are you impressed with Mr. Shelton's powers as a detective, Lance?" asked Mr. Lawrence as they walked on a few blocks before hailing a car. "I believe he is an able man, but--I am not prepared to subscribe to his theory of the event which happened to-night," was the somewhat hesitating reply of the young man. "You are not? What, then, is your opinion?" asked the banker, in some surprise. "Mr. Lawrence, I believe that it was really and truly our lost Lily whom we beheld to-night," said Lancelot, earnestly. "Really and truly our Lily! Come, Lance, you talk wildly. Has your affliction turned your brain, poor boy? Recollect that Lily is dead." "I know--I know. Who could realize that fact more forcibly than I do? But, my dear friend, I did not mean that it was Lily in the flesh. What I meant was that Lily's spirit, the better part of her which is imperishable, really and truly appeared to us to-night," said the young man, who was of a very impressive and imaginative cast of mind. Mr. Lawrence regarded him curiously. "But why should you persist in this belief, Lance, when the clever Mr. Shelton has so clearly shown us the fallacy of the idea?" "He has not shown us the fallacy of the idea at all," answered Lancelot Darling earnestly, as before. "He has only given us his practical theory regarding it." "Have you any conjecture regarding her object in so appearing to us--if, indeed, you take the right view of the matter, Lance?" asked the banker, impressed by the serious manner of his young friend. "I have not thought of it, Mr. Lawrence. I have no distinct or tangible impression at all except this one, which is indelibly fixed on my mind. I believe that the pure, white soul of Lily Lawrence looked out visibly upon us to-night from the eyes of the girl whom we saw in the hall. I cannot be mistaken. My soul leaped forth to meet hers as it could not have done for any other woman, mortal or immortal," replied the loyal lover earnestly. "Well, here is my car," said the banker, hastening to signal it.