Lady Branwin was duly buried at Kensal Green, amidst a large concourse of people, and many were the letters and telegrams of condolence which Sir Joseph received. For a week or so paragraphs appeared in the papers suggesting possible clues, and the offer of one thousand pounds reward prompted many people to keep the matter of the crime in their minds. Also some busybody wrote to the journals insisting that the Turkish Shop should be closed; but it was pointed out that Madame Coralie had always conducted her business respectably, and that neither she nor her assistants were to blame in any way for what had taken place. It was, therefore, scarcely fair that the woman should lose her means of livelihood for not preventing what was beyond her power to prevent. Finally, after a nine days' wonder, the matter of the crime was permitted to drop into oblivion, so far as the general public were concerned. Lady Branwin, as someone observed, was dead and buried, and the secret of her murder was buried with her. Within a month the wretched woman and her sensational death were forgotten, and the Turkish Shop continued to open its doors. "But there is a falling-off," sighed Madame Coralie. "Some women won't come--just as if I could help that miserable Lady Branwin dying in the way she did. I wish she had died anywhere but in my house. But it's all over, and I am ruined." However, Madame Coralie was not ruined, for business speedily picked up again; also it was not "all over," for in the dark at least one person was trying to trace the assassin. This was Ralph Shawe, and he attended to the matter because of Audrey's wish and for the sake of his own happiness. "I shall never marry you," Audrey stated, when returning from the funeral, "until the truth about my mother's death is made public." "It seems impossible to discover the truth," said Ralph, gloomily. "Then we shall never become husband and wife," was Audrey's reply; and to this decision she firmly adhered. CHAPTER V SIR JOSEPH'S INTENTIONS