“My dear young lady, there isn’t the least fear of that. It may ease your mind if I tell you more than I intended. Dr. Weathered’s death occurred in a club in Chelsea, and the proprietress or manager, whichever she really is, sent for the police. They thought the death might be due to foul play, and they have been making some inquiries. Meanwhile, they have had their eyes on everyone who would be at all likely to have anything to do with the case, and you may be sure that if the doctor left any secret correspondence it will be secured and burnt immediately.” Violet had glanced at my face while he was speaking, and had read in it, no doubt, that it would be her best course to appear satisfied. She murmured a “Thank you.” “There is one other question I should like to ask you, but I hope you won’t think it concerns you personally. The doctor’s death took place on Wednesday night, and as you were more than a hundred miles away, no one supposes that you can throw any light on what took place in the Club that night.” He paused for a moment, as if to give her a chance of asking how he came to know that she was so far away. But of course I had already given her the information, and she was afraid to speak. “But it seems that you have a double, or rather that someone was impersonating you that night. The attention of the police was drawn to the presence of a dancer wearing a fancy dress which the costumiers consider to represent Zenobia, the famous Queen of Palmyra who fought against the Romans in the third century. They made inquiries, and heard that a similar costume had been supplied to you about a year ago.--Can you tell me what has become of it?” The final question was put abruptly. It was well that Violet had been prepared for it. She kept perfectly cool; if anything, too cool. I should have liked her to show a little more disturbance. “I have no idea. I suppose my maid has put it away somewhere among my things. But I will ring for her, and ask.” “Permit me, Lady Violet.” Tarleton sprang to the bell before she was out of her chair. It was answered by the manservant, whom her ladyship dispatched in quest of her maid. I watched my chief while we were waiting. I flattered myself that I had outmanœuvred him in this direction. His lowered brows told me that he was puzzled. He must have come down to Tyberton expecting to find the costume missing, and to receive some made-up story to account for its disappearance. A woman came into the room, an elderly person, of very plain appearance, whom I put down as Lord Ledbury’s housekeeper. I didn’t think his lordship’s means were sufficient to provide his daughter with a lady’s maid. “Oh, Henderson, do you know what has become of that fancy dress of mine with the helmet and breastplate? Can you put your hands on it?” Henderson showed no surprise. “Certainly, my lady. It is in the drawer at the bottom of your ladyship’s wardrobe.” “Just go and fetch it, will you?” “Yes, my lady.”