For a long time past Mallow had been turning over in his mind the scheme of a new novel upon which he was most anxious to commence work. But now that Mrs. Carson had called upon him to aid her to the solution of the many mysteries by which she seemed to be surrounded, he was obliged to put all thought of it from him. With all the energy he could command he threw himself into the business on hand. Here was a romance in real life surpassing the most elaborate inventions of fiction. It was his task to round it off to a satisfactory finish. And this was not easy. Of actual fact he had but little to guide him. Neither could he hope to extract much from those chiefly concerned. He was forced to grope his way in well-nigh utter darkness. Only by the light of fresh material yet to be gathered would he be able to use to advantage that which was already at his command. And of procuring such fresh material he saw but small chance at present. Here, as in most things, it was the first step which was so important. He inclined to think that two heads were better than one. From Sandbeach he had written at some length to his friend Aldean, telling him all that had taken place there, and how he had shifted Olive's troubles (so far as he was able) on to his own more capable shoulders. The result was that Aldean came up to London almost immediately, and presented himself at Mallow's chambers in Half-Moon Street, full of curiosity and anxiety to assist in the crusade against Carson and Company. In substantiation of his belief in the old proverb, Mallow accepted his offer. Here was another head, at all events, if not an exceptionally brilliant one. And so Aldean took up his quarters at his house in Kensington, and prepared himself for an exciting time. "It is good of you, Jim," said Mallow, at their first meeting. "I know you would much rather be at Casterwell playing with Amaryllis in the shade, according to your habit." "Amaryllis comes to London next week," replied Jim, with something of a blush. "Mrs. Purcell has invited her." "Oh, in that case your patience will not be put to so great a test. Has Mrs. Purcell arrived?" "Yes, she is in town now, settled in a friend's house which she has taken over for the winter. Miss Slarge showed me a long Johnsonian missive, in which Mrs. Purcell stated she was 'elevating her shingle' in Guelph Road, Campden Hill." "And how, may I ask, did Mrs. Purcell translate 'elevating her shingle' into English?" "Oh, I can't remember the old lady's long-winded sentences, but she is now in Guelph Road. Miss Slarge, with Miss Ostergaard, comes up next week. Of course, Mrs. Purcell knows nothing of Mrs. Carson's matrimonial troubles, or I dare say she would have asked her too." "She must ask her," said Mallow, hastily. "I shall call on Mrs. Purcell, and explain the circumstances. It will never do for Mrs. Carson to be left alone in her troubles." "Take care, Mallow; your interest in Mrs. Carson may be misconstrued."