"I know he thought so. I did at first. But our losses were nothing compared with Mrs. Carlyon's jewels," continued Captain Lennox rapidly, as though he would cover his last words. "And the jewel-case was found the next day; and the thief must have walked off with the trinkets in his pocket!" "Just so. And they were worth quite three hundred pounds." Captain Lennox opened his eyes. "Three hundred pounds! So much as that! I wonder how they were taken! By some light-handed fellow, I suppose, who contrived to find his way upstairs amid the general bustle of the house." "No, we think not. The servants say it was hardly possible for anyone to do that unnoticed; Aunt Gertrude thinks the same; And the servants are all trustworthy. It is a curious matter altogether." Captain Lennox looked at her. "Surely you cannot suspect any of the guests?" "It would be uncharitable to do that," was Ella's light answer. But the keen-witted Captain noticed that she did not deny it more emphatically. "What a pity that the jewels were not safely locked up!" he exclaimed. "The dressing-room, in which they were, was locked; at least, the key was turned--and who would be likely to intrude into it? Aunt Gertrude remembers that perfectly. She found Philip Cleeve lying on the sofa in her boudoir with a bad headache, and she went into the dressing-room to get her smelling-salts, unlocking the door to enter. Whether she relocked it is another matter." "Did Cleeve notice whether anybody else went in while he was lying there?" "He thinks not, but he can't say for certain--we asked him that question the next morning. He fancies that he fell asleep for a few minutes: his head was very bad. Anyway, the jewels are gone, and Aunt Gertrude can get no clue to the thief, so it is hopeless to talk of it," concluded Ella, somewhat wearily. "How is your sister?" "Quite well, thank you. Why don't you come and see her?" "I will; I have been very busy since I came home. And tell her, please, that I hope she will come to see me. Good-bye for the present, Captain Lennox: you are going on to my uncle; perhaps you will not be gone when I get back; I shall not be very long." Ella tripped lightly on, Turco striding gravely beside her. Captain Lennox stood for a minute to look after her. "I wonder," he muttered to himself, stroking his whiskers--a habit of his when he fell into a brown study--"whether it has crossed Mrs. Carlyon's mind to suspect Philip Cleeve?" After all her vacillation, Ella went down to dinner that evening in a simple white dress. She could hardly have chosen one to suit her better; at least, so thought Mr. Conroy, when he entered the room. The dinner was not homely, as on the first occasion of his dining there; Ella had ordered it otherwise. It was served on some of the grand old family plate, not often brought to light; and the table was decorated with flowers from the Vicar's charming garden.