It was a likely enough solution; and yet, somehow or other, it left Colin unconvinced. He had carried away a very unfavourable impression of Nancy's self-adopted guardian, but it was an impression that declined to fit in with this otherwise plausible theory. Unless his judgment were badly at fault, there was a hard, calculating selfishness stamped upon every line of the man's face. People of that sort are not swept off their feet by sudden outbursts of romantic jealousy, nor--which was another and extremely significant consideration--do they concern themselves unduly over the welfare of a dead friend's offspring. It was this latter point, indeed, which puzzled Colin completely. He felt convinced that Major Fenton must have had some secret purpose in hunting Nancy out and practically forcing his acquaintance upon her. His story about a twenty-year-old friendship with her father would have sounded well enough in a sentimental novel, but having seen the gentleman for himself, and having had an illuminating example of his ideas of honour and fair play, Colin found the explanation uncommonly difficult to swallow. Perhaps Inspector Marsden and his colleagues at the Yard would be able to throw some light on the problem. It would be interesting at least to know a little about the Major's career, and whether his past record was at all in keeping with this sudden excursion into philanthropy. There was another possible source of information in the person of Mr. Medwin. The two men were certainly acquainted, otherwise Fenton's photograph would not have been adorning the mantelpiece in Albert Terrace. When he visited the house again he could easily find an opportunity to make some casual inquiry concerning the original, only it must be done in a sufficiently tactful manner not to arouse the lawyer's curiosity. In any case, this alternative course could be postponed until he had received the Inspector's report. The odds were that, if there was really anything shady in Fenton's history, Marsden would succeed in unearthing it, and since Nancy seemed to be thoroughly capable of looking after herself, another week's delay was not likely to produce any tragical consequences. With this consoling reflection Colin donned his pyjamas, and, turning out the fire, clambered into bed. He was just in that pleasantly drowsy stage when one feels half reluctant to fall asleep, and, lying there with the light on, he allowed his thoughts to drift back contentedly over the various details of his two meetings with Nancy. It was an agreeable occupation, and the longer he indulged in it the more he began to realize what a very necessary part of his life she had already become. A kind of instinctive friendship seemed to have sprung up between them at their first encounter, and, although he had been unable to see her again until to-day, the interval had certainly not succeeded in making the faintest difference.