Miss Fosdyke finished her reflection and turned away. "I remember you now," she said calmly. "You're Joseph Chestermarke. Now I will sit down. And I insist on being told--everything!" "My dear young lady!" exclaimed Gabriel, "there is next to nothing to tell. If you will have the unpleasant truth, here it is. Your uncle, whom we have trusted for more years than I care to mention, disappeared on Saturday evening, and nobody knows where he is, nor whither he went. All we know is that we find some of our property missing--valuable securities. And this gentleman--Lord Ellersdeane--tells us that six weeks ago he entrusted jewels worth a hundred thousand pounds to your uncle's keeping--they, too, are missing. What can we think?" The girl's face had flushed, and her brows had drawn together in an angry frown by the time Gabriel had finished, and Neale, silently watching her from the background, saw her fingers clench themselves. She gave a swift glance at the Earl, and then fixed her eyes steadily on Gabriel. "Are you telling me that my uncle is a--thief?" she demanded. "Are you, Mr. Chestermarke?" "I'm not, anyhow!" exclaimed the Earl. "I--I--so far as I'm concerned, I say there's some mistake." "Thank you!" she answered quietly. "But--you, Mr. Chestermarke? Come--I'm entitled to an answer." Gabriel showed signs of deep annoyance. He had the reputation of being a confirmed woman-hater, and it was plain that he was ill at ease in presence of this plain-spoken young person. "You appear to be a lady of much common sense!" he said. "Therefore----" "I have some common sense," interrupted Miss Fosdyke coolly. "And what amount I possess tells me that I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life than the suggestion that my uncle should steal anything from anybody! Why, he was, and is, I hope, a fairly well-to-do man! And if he wanted money, he'd only to come to me. It so happens that I'm one of the wealthiest young women in England. If my uncle had wanted a few thousands or tens of thousands to play ducks and drakes with, he'd only to ring me up on the telephone, and he'd have had whatever he asked for in a few hours. That's not boasting, Mr. Chestermarke--that's just plain truth. My uncle a thief! Mr. Chestermarke!--there's only one word for your suggestion. Don't think me rude if I tell you what it is. It's--bosh!" Gabriel's colourless face twitched a little, and he drew himself up. "I have no acquaintance with modern young ladies," he remarked icily. "I daresay they have their own way of looking at things--and of expressing themselves. I, too, have mine. Also I have my own conclusions, and----" "I say, Mr. Chestermarke!" said the Earl, hastening to intervene in what seemed likely to develop into a passage-at-arms. "We're forgetting the suggestion made just before this lady--Miss Fosdyke, I think?--entered. Don't let's forget it--it's a good one." Miss Fosdyke turned eagerly to the Earl.