Mrs. Rebson laughed at what she conceived was a joke, and between them they contrived, very skilfully, to fasten on the shorn tresses. As Ferdy usually wore his hair in a musician-like way, Clarice had imitated the cut, so it was not difficult to replace the severed locks in the style in which she generally wore them. Also, since she wished to still play the part of invalid, she made Mrs. Rebson draw down the blinds and light the fire. Then, swathed in blankets and shawls, Clarice sat ready for the visit of the parson. She had failed to deceive Sir Daniel Jerce, but Mr. Clarke, being less clever and observant, and not a doctor, she felt certain that she would manage to trick him. Having thus arranged her stage, the anxious girl waited for the vicar. Mr. Clarke appeared almost on the heels of the messenger, and looked more wild and wan than ever. With a weary air he shook hands with Miss Baird, and expressed his regret that she was suffering from influenza. Then he sat down opposite to her and stared into the fire with lack-lustre eyes. Clarice had to break the ice. "Mr. Clarke," she said, hesitating, for it was not easy to begin; "I wish to speak to you about a very important matter----" "I am quite at your service, Clarice." "And one which touches your reputation," said the girl. Mr. Clarke started and became paler than ever, as he cast a keen, wild look at the speaker. "I--I--I--don't understand," he stuttered. "Carry your thoughts back to the night when Uncle Henry was murdered," said Clarice, significantly, "and you will understand." The vicar considered for a few moments, and then shook his head. "No, I don't know what you mean. I thought--I thought," he moistened his dry lips, "I thought that you were going to speak of Frank. And I won't have his name mentioned," he ended, violently. "I did not intend to speak of Frank," said Clarice, wondering why the memory of his dead son should so agitate him; "but of your visit to Uncle Henry's room on that night." "My visit," stammered the old man. "Your midnight visit." "Who said that I----" "Oh, there is no need for me to give names," interrupted Clarice, in sharp tones, "but someone saw you leaving the bedroom at two in the morning. What were you doing there at that time?" "Oh, yes, I remember." Mr. Clarke spoke in a dreamy way. "I should have spoken to the police about that. But Frank's wickedness put it quite out of my head. And then, of course, it looked awkward for me." Clarice was almost too astonished to speak. That he should take the revelation so calmly perplexed her greatly. "How do you mean, that it looked awkward for you?" she asked, after an embarrassing pause. "Going to see poor Horran at that hour," said Mr. Clarke, innocently; "and then seeing his dead body."