Then, in that case, he must have been with his brother some time after my visitor had come to me. The knowledge occasioned me distinct relief. Turner continued: “He went up about an hour ago: perhaps a little more. He’d got no parcel then. I stared when I saw he’d got one when he came back. I shouldn’t have thought he was the kind to carry a parcel, and especially such a one. I’d have called him a cab if he’d given me a chance, but I was just starting with Mr. Maynard, and he was off like a shot. Shall I wait for you, sir? The first door round the corner is Mrs. Peddar’s.” I told him not to wait, feeling conscious that it might take me some time to explain to Mrs. Peddar what I desired of her. The lady must have been a light sleeper. Hardly had I saluted the panel of the door with my knuckles than a voice inquired who was there. When I informed her she made a prompt appearance in her dressing-gown. “You, Mr. Ferguson! What do you want at this hour of the night?” I immediately became conscious that it might be even more difficult to explain than I had supposed. “I have a visitor downstairs, Mrs. Peddar.” “A visitor? Well? What has that to do with me? You can’t have anything to eat at this time of night.” She said that, I take it, because in the Mansions meals are provided for residents, and she supposed that I had dragged her out of bed at that unholy hour in search of food. “The visitor is a lady, and I wanted to know if you could give her a bed somewhere to-night.” “A bed? Who is the lady?” “Well--the fact is, Mrs. Peddar, something very remarkable has taken place. I’ve come up to tell you all about it, and to ask your advice.” “You had better come in.” I went into her sitting-room, she, with an eye for the proprieties, leaving the door discreetly open. There was that in her bearing which made me wonder if she suspected me of having been guilty of some act of rakish impropriety, unworthy of my age and character. I was conscious that the course in front of me was not all smooth sailing. “A young lady, Mrs. Peddar, has just entered my room through the window.” “Through the window! Mr. Ferguson! At this hour!” “I’m afraid the poor thing is not quite right in her mind.” “I should think not. That is the best thing you can hope of her.” “She is quite a lady.” “Lady!” Mrs. Peddar tightened her lips. “Mr. Ferguson, are you laughing at me, sir?” “I assure you I am perfectly serious; and I give you my word she is a lady. You have only to see her for yourself to find that. Wait a minute--let me finish! I thought at first that she was a somnambulist; that she had been walking in her sleep; and I am still of opinion that something strange has happened to her. She is unable to tell me her name, who she is, whence she comes, or anything about herself; she seemed as if she were mazed.” “Has she been drinking?”