Evening was drawing on when Bella strolled aimlessly down the ascending road that led to Marple's residence. On one hand of the road there was a deep rift, filled with shadow, in which a beck murmured among the stones, and the oaks that climbed to the ridge above flung their great branches against the saffron glow in the western sky. Fallen leaves, glowing brown and red, had gathered thick beneath one hedgerow and more came slowly sailing down; but Bella brushed through them unheeding, oblivious to her surroundings. She had suffered during the few days that had followed her interview with Gladwyne and even the sharp encounter with Miss Marple in which she had recently indulged had not cheered her, though it had left her friend smarting. Presently she looked around with interest as a figure appeared farther up the road, and recognizing the fine poise and vigorous stride, she stopped and waited. Lisle was a bracing person to talk to, and she wanted to see him. He soon came up with her and she greeted him cordially. Unlike Gladwyne, he was a real man, resolute and resourceful, with a generous vein in him, and she did not resent the fact that he looked rather hard at her. "You don't seem as cheerful as usual," he observed. "I'm not," she confessed. "In fact, I think I was very nearly crying." "What's the trouble?" He showed both interest and sympathy. "Oh, you needn't ask. It's Jim again. I've tried every means and I can't do anything with him." "He is pretty uncontrollable. Seems to have gone back to Batley again. I wonder if it would be any good if I looked for an opportunity for making a row with the fellow?" "No," she answered, with appreciation, for this was very different from Gladwyne's attitude. "It would only separate Jim from you, and I don't want that to happen. Please keep hold of him, though I know that can't be pleasant for you." "He is trying now and then, but I'll do what I can. Gladwyne, however, has more influence than I have. Did you think of asking him?" She colored, and in her brief confusion he read his answer with strong indignation--she had pleaded with Gladwyne and he had refused to help. "Do you know," she said, looking up at him, "you're the only real friend I have. There's nobody else I can trust." "I think you're wrong in that," he declared; and acting on impulse he laid a hand protectingly on her shoulder, for she looked very dejected and forlorn. "Anyway, you mustn't worry. I'll do something--in fact, something will have to be done." "What will you do?"