Fanny cast her eyes over a number of the entries, all of which bore out Mrs. Melray's description of them. Then, because a pocket-book without a pocket would in some sort be a misnomer, she turned to the Russia-leather cover and, on lifting a flap, found the receptacle she was in search of. It held nothing save a small folded paper, which, from its texture, she took at first for a bank-note. When, however, she had extracted it she saw that it was merely an ordinary piece of tissue-paper with some written characters showing through it. Without opening it she handed it to Mrs. Melray. "What is this, my dear?" demanded the elder lady. "I saw nothing of this when I looked through the book. But I suppose I did not look carefully enough. There seems to be writing on it, but my eyes are so weak that I must ask you to read it for me." Accordingly Fanny took back the paper, which proved to be an ordinary press copy of a letter, its uneven edge on one side tending to show that it had been torn out of the tissue-book after having been passed through the machine. Having unfolded it she proceeded to read aloud as follows: "Loudwater House, "_September_ 4, 18--. "Mr. John Noyes, "Solchester. "Sir,--I beg to enclose you Bank of England notes value three hundred and fifty pounds (viz., three of 100_l_. each and one of 50_l_.) in full discharge of the claim standing in your books against my name. This I do in preference to forwarding you a cheque for the amount. You will understand what I mean when I tell you that a few hours ago I had a long interview with our mutual friend, Mr. ----. I have retained the documents brought by him for my examination, as to the authenticity of which it is not needful that I should enter into any particulars. Kindly acknowledge the receipt of my enclosure by return, and at the same time forward, through registered post, the important document belonging to me which you have still in your possession. "To a person of your business tact and experience I need scarcely remark that in a delicate matter like the present discretion is a most laudable virtue. "Yours most truly, "James Melray." "Well, my dear, and what do you make of it?" asked Mrs. Melray, after staring silently at Fanny for several seconds. "On the face of it, it seems a very mysterious production, and I confess that I don't in the least know what to make of it. The date of it is just a fortnight before Mr. Melray's death." "So it is. That is a point which failed to strike me at the moment. But what is meant by 'our mutual friend, Mr. ----'? Is the name omitted?" "Not omitted, but owing to a fault in copying, it is so smudged as to be illegible." "That is a pity, but of course it can't be helped." Then, after a few moments of silent consideration, she added: "I think this is a case as to which it may be advisable to consult my son. What say you?" "I quite agree with you, madam."