"And one thing more. You will not suffer this act of mine to alter your pleasant relations with the household here. You will come and go as usual that they may not suspect anything has occurred. I promise you that I will not obtrude my company upon you," said she, humbly. "It were better that I should remain away," he said, hesitatingly. "But you will come sometimes," she said, and he did not answer nay, but only said: "Good-bye." CHAPTER XXI. Mr. Shelton, the famous detective, was slowly but surely gaining ground in his mysterious and interesting case. For a long time it had puzzled him and baffled his investigations, but having at last obtained a single clew, he began to push on, slowly, to be sure, but certainly, to eventual success. He had discovered, after patient and almost incredible labors, that Doctor Pratt was the man who had bribed the sexton and obtained the key of the Lawrence vault the night of Lily's interment there. He had also learned that Harold Colville wore the missing half of the broken locket found in Mr. Lawrence's hall the night on which the specter of the banker's daughter had appeared to the assembled family. As yet he had not thought of linking these separate facts together, but the day was not far away when he would do so. He adopted quite a bold method of obtaining the desired knowledge regarding Mr. Colville. He called upon that gentleman attired in a very plain business suit, and still further disguised by a rather long wig of reddish hair, set off by beard and eyebrows of the same ruddy hue. He sent up a card to the gentleman of pleasure, simply engraved: "J. Styles." After some delay he was ushered into Mr. Colville's parlor. That gentleman, attired in the extreme of fashion, merely nodded at his visitor's entrance. He did not think it necessary to rise for such a plain-looking personage. "I have not the honor of knowing you, sir," said he, stiffly. "J. Styles, under-clerk to the bankers, Lawrence and Co.," explained the visitor, briskly. "Indeed!" said Mr. Colville, affecting nonchalance, but he started violently and the keen eyes of "J. Styles" saw that he turned a trifle paler. "You have met with a loss, I see," said the under clerk, abruptly bending forward and taking hold of the broken locket that dangled among the charms of the gentleman's watch-chain. "A personal affair that does not concern strangers," answered Mr. Colville, haughtily, as he drew back. "I beg your pardon--it is the very business on which I called," replied the visitor, imperturbably. As he spoke he slipped his fingers into his breast pocket, produced the missing half of the locket, and deftly fitted it to the broken part that dangled from the chain. "I have the honor to return this to you, sir," said he, slipping the jewel into Mr. Colville's hand. The gentleman's fingers closed over it mechanically.