Liddy came to me on Wednesday morning with her black silk apron held up like a bag, and her eyes big with virtuous wrath. It was the day of Thomas’ funeral in the village, and Alex and I were in the conservatory cutting flowers for the old man’s casket. Liddy is never so happy as when she is making herself wretched, and now her mouth drooped while her eyes were triumphant. “I always said there were plenty of things going on here, right under our noses, that we couldn’t see,” she said, holding out her apron. “I don’t see with my nose,” I remarked. “What have you got there?” Liddy pushed aside a half-dozen geranium pots, and in the space thus cleared she dumped the contents of her apron—a handful of tiny bits of paper. Alex had stepped back, but I saw him watching her curiously. “Wait a moment, Liddy,” I said. “You have been going through the library paper-basket again!” Liddy was arranging her bits of paper with the skill of long practice and paid no attention. “Did it ever occur to you,” I went on, putting my hand over the scraps, “that when people tear up their correspondence, it is for the express purpose of keeping it from being read?” “If they wasn’t ashamed of it they wouldn’t take so much trouble, Miss Rachel,” Liddy said oracularly. “More than that, with things happening every day, I consider it my duty. If you don’t read and act on this, I shall give it to that Jamieson, and I’ll venture he’ll not go back to the city to-day.” That decided me. If the scraps had anything to do with the mystery ordinary conventions had no value. So Liddy arranged the scraps, like working out one of the puzzle-pictures children play with, and she did it with much the same eagerness. When it was finished she stepped aside while I read it. “Wednesday night, nine o’clock. Bridge,” I real aloud. Then, aware of Alex’s stare, I turned on Liddy. “Some one is to play bridge to-night at nine o’clock,” I said. “Is that your business, or mine?” Liddy was aggrieved. She was about to reply when I scooped up the pieces and left the conservatory. “Now then,” I said, when we got outside, “will you tell me why you choose to take Alex into your confidence? He’s no fool. Do you suppose he thinks any one in this house is going to play bridge to-night at nine o’clock, by appointment! I suppose you have shown it in the kitchen, and instead of my being able to slip down to the bridge to-night quietly, and see who is there, the whole household will be going in a procession.”