He paused a moment, drew a sigh, and resumed. "I will be quite frank with you, Smeaton. That chatterbox Boyle has told you the truth. He was not in our particular set, but of course the common rumours reached him. There was a scandal--a very considerable scandal. It distressed his friends greatly, especially those who, like myself, appreciated his exceptional talents, and predicted for him a great career." Again he paused. Then he resumed: "I am glad to say our counsels and influence prevailed in the end. We weaned him from this fascinating lady--who fought very hard for him, I must tell you. In the end we won. A year later he married a very charming girl, who made him the best of wives, and to whom, I have every reason to believe, he was devotedly attached." Smeaton rose, and expressed his thanks for the candid way in which Mr Chesterton had treated him. "One last question, sir, and I have done," he said. "What would be the present age of this lady?" "She is ten years or so Monkton's junior, and looks ten years younger than that. At least, she did the last time I saw her, and that was a few months ago." As he walked across back to Scotland Yard, Smeaton turned it all over in his mind. Lady Wrenwyck was ten years younger than Monkton, and looked ten years younger than her real age. Therefore, without doubt, she was a beautiful and fascinating woman, and still dangerous. Had he cared to question the Prime Minister more closely, he could have gleaned more information about the Wrenwyck household. But Mr Chesterton was obviously disinclined to raise "old ghosts," as he called them. He would obtain what he wanted by other methods. He hunted up Lord Wrenwyck in the peerage, and found him to be a person of some importance, who possessed three houses in the country, and lived in Park Lane. He was also twelfth Baron. Smeaton summoned one of his subordinates, a promising young fellow, keen at this particular kind of work, and showed him the page in the peerage. "I want you to find out as quickly as possible all you can about this family. You understand, Johnson--every detail you can pick up." Detective-sergeant Johnson, qualifying for promotion, smiled at his chief and gave him his assurance. "I've had more difficult jobs, and perhaps a few easier ones, Mr Smeaton. I'll get on it at once, and I don't think you'll be disappointed," he said. Mr Johnson omitted to mention, with a reticence that must be commended, that a cousin of his was a footman next door to the Wrenwyck establishment, and accustomed to look in of an evening at a select hostelry adjacent to Park Lane. That same evening--for Johnson's methods were swift and sure--he waited on his chief at Smeaton's house, with an unmistakable air of triumph on his usually impassive features.