"No; but Miss Morrison's niece might have. I know Miss Morrison had one taken, a copy of it appeared in the church papers. The niece, Miss Belford, continues to live at Walham Green--No. 3 Cedars Road." "Does she attend the church?" I asked, as I made a note of the address. "Oh, yes. She used to come with her aunt, and since Miss Morrison's death she has taken up some parish work. I know her much better than I did her aunt." "Of course she has not yet heard of the theft?" "No, I have not talked about it to any one. I thought silence was the best policy." I quite agreed with him and suggested he should keep the theft a secret for the next few hours. With Mr. Hayes and his hooligans' club at the back of my mind, I made one or two enquiries in the neighborhood, and then started for Walham Green. On my way to the Underground I met Percival, one of the men engaged upon the hotel robberies, and stood talking to him for a few minutes. He was rather keen on a clue he had got hold of, but I was now sufficiently interested in the stolen chalice not to be envious. No. 3 Cedars Road was quite a small house--forty pounds a year perhaps, and Miss Belford was a more attractive person than I expected to find. I don't know why, but I had expected to see a typical old maid; instead of which I was met by a young woman who had considerable claims to beauty. She opened the door herself, her maid being out, and was astonished when I said the Vicar of St. Ethelburga's had sent me. She asked me in to a small but tastefully appointed dining-room, and when I told her my news, seemed more concerned on her aunt's account than at the loss of the chalice. "Poor auntie!" she exclaimed. "Whilst she had the jewels she was always afraid some one would steal them, and now--now some one has." "Mr. Harding thought you would have a photograph of the chalice," I said. "I am sorry, I haven't. There were two or three, but I don't know what auntie did with them. She was a dear, but had funny little secretive ways." "Mr. Harding led me to suppose she was eccentric," I said. "It is often the way with wealthy old ladies." "Wealthy!" she laughed. "She left me all she had, and I shall not be able to afford to go on living here." "How came she to give the jewels to the church then?" "I hardly know, and I will confess that I was a little disappointed when she did so. Does that sound very ungrateful in view of the fact that she left me everything else!" "No. It is natural under the circumstances." "She was very fond of me, but as I have said, she was secretive and she certainly did not give me her entire confidence. I fancy the jewels were connected with some romance in her past life, and for that reason she did not wish any one else to possess them." "You can't give me any idea of the nature of this romance, Miss Belford?" "No." "It might possibly help me."