Third, a photograph of Lena Sarschine, taken in a white dress with a tennis racket in her hand. Dowker examined the photographs carefully, and then coolly read all the letters, of which there were about ten. After doing this, he turned to Lydia Fenny who had been watching him all the time, and said: "I can read a whole story in this; the name of your mistress was not Lena Sarschine, but Helena Dicksfall--she lived at Folkestone with her father, Captain Michael Dicksfall, and a lady she calls Amelia, whom I take to be her sister. Lord Calliston went down to Folkestone, saw her and fell in love--all these letters show how he conducted his intrigue, which he did under the name of Frank Carrill. He loved Miss Dicksfall but did not wish to marry her; at last he persuaded her to run away with him, and at last she did so. Ashamed of her position, she changed her name to Lena Sarschine so as to conceal her identity. The portrait of the old gentleman is that of her father, Captain Michael Dicksfall, and this one is herself." Lydia Fenny listened in silent amazement to the way in which he had pieced the story together, and then taking the portraits in her hand she looked at them long and earnestly. "Yes," she said at length, laying down the photographs with a sigh. "It is Miss Sarschine, but it must have been taken some time ago, for I never saw her in that dress, and I have been with her for about a year." Dowker was about to make a reply when the door opened and a woman entered. Tall, thin, with a pale face, dark hair, and an aggressive manner, dressed in a green dress, and bonnet to match. "Oh!" observed Lydia on seeing her, "is this you, Anne?" Dowker looked sharply at the new comer, whom he now knew to be Lady Balscombe's maid, and she returned his gaze with a look of suspicion. "Well, sit," she said at length, in a rather harsh voice, "I hope you'll know me again." Dowker laughed, and Lydia hastened to introduce him to Miss Lifford, who being an extremely self-possessed young person took the introduction very calmly, though she manifested some surprise when she heard Mr. Dowker's calling. "This gentleman," said Lydia when they were all seated, "wants to ask you a few questions." "And for what?" asked Miss Lifford, indignantly, "my character I hope being above policemen's prying." "I'm not a policeman," explained Dowker, smoothly, "but a detective, and I want to know all that took place on the night your mistress eloped." "Are you employed by Sir Rupert?" asked Anne, grandly, "because though I knows they fought bitter, yet wild bulls won't drag anything out of me against my mistress, she being a good one to me." "I don't want you to say anything against your mistress," replied Dowker, mildly, "but I am investigating this case of murder." "Murder!" echoed Miss Lifford in a scared tone, "who is murdered--not Lady Balscombe?" "No," said Lydia, bursting into tears, "but my poor mistress, Miss Sarschine."