"A person of no repute," sniffed Anne, coldly. "Leave her alone," said Lydia passionately. "She's dead, poor soul, and even if she was not married, she was better than Lady Balscombe, carrying on with Lord Calliston." "Oh, indeed, miss," said Ann, rising indignantly. "This is a plot, is it, to mix up Lady Balscombe with your mistress? I won't have anything to do with it." Dowker caught her wrist as she arose, and forced her back into her chair. "You'll answer what I want to know," he said sternly, "or it will be the worse for yourself." Upon this Miss Lifford began to weep, and demanded if she was a slave or a British female, to be thus badgered and assaulted by a policeman. At last, after some difficulty, Dowker succeeded in making her understand that what he wanted to know was not detrimental to her mistress, upon which she said she would tell him what he required. So Dowker produced his note-book and prepared to take down Miss Lifford's evidence. "First," asked Dowker, "do you remember the night when Lady Balscombe eloped?" "Not being a born fool, I do," retorted Miss Lifford sharply. "Such goings on I never saw." "Can you tell me all that took place on that night?" Miss Lifford sniffed thoughtfully. "There was a ball they was going to." "Who were going to?" "Lady Balscombe and Miss Penfold. They did go, and left shortly before ten, but before I had time to turn round, they were back again, as Lady Balscombe said she had a headache." "Oh, so I suppose she went to bed?" "Then you suppose wrong," retorted Anne triumphantly, "for there was a pusson waiting to see her." "A lady?" asked Dowker, eagerly. "I don't know," retorted Miss Lifford sharply. "She had a veil on." "Can you describe her dress?" Miss Lifford thought a moment, while Lydia bent forward anxiously to hear her answer. "A hat trimmed with blue and brown velvet, and a sealskin jacket." Lydia Fenny sank back in her seat with a groan. "Oh, my poor mistress!" "Your mistress!" echoed Miss Lifford, turning sharply. "It could not have been Miss Sarschine who called on that night." "But I'm certain it was," said Dowker. "What impertinence!" muttered the virtuous Anne. "Never mind," said Dowker sharply, "go on with your story," Miss Lifford sniffed indignantly and resumed: "Lady Balscombe returned at half-past ten and went up to her dressing-room, where this--this lady was waiting for her. Miss Penfold went to bed. I don't know how long the lady was with my mistress, as I was told that my mistress would not require me again that night; but I waited about in case I should be wanted, and saw the lady leave the house shortly after eleven." "Miss Sarschine?"