"Then, if my surmise is correct," I said, "we are most likely to find him at the Lord Warden Hotel, which is, of course, the best in the town. Anyhow, it is worthwhile to go there first to make inquiries about him." "Very well," she replied, in a submissive, hopeless kind of voice. She had yielded herself up to my directions, but up to the present moment I had failed to inspire her with any faith in the success of my mission. She was evidently oppressed with the fear that Mainwaring had committed suicide, and seemed to think my conjecture about him impossible. As we were walking to the hotel, she said, suddenly:-- "If my husband is really out of his mind, we are ruined from a worldly point of view." "I am sorry to hear that," I replied. "Have you no private means?" "No," she answered. "My husband had his profession, and he was doing good work as a barrister. But there is no profession in the world which requires greater brain power than his. We have nothing to live on except what my husband earns." "In case Mr. Mainwaring cannot earn money for a time, have you no relations who will help you?" I asked. She shook her head. "We have no relations who will help us," she said. "It is true that my husband's father is still living--he is an old man, a clergyman. He has a small parish, and with difficulty makes both ends meet. It would be impossible to expect assistance from him." She sighed heavily as she spoke. Then she continued, with a naïveté which touched me: "Even at this terrible moment I cannot help thinking of the children, and of how they will suffer if our worst fears are fulfilled." "Well," I said, in a cheerful tone, "we must hope for the best. The first thing is to find your husband. After that we must consider what is best to be done for him." "Oh, can anything be done?" she asked, in a tone of supplication. "We will see," I replied. We arrived at the hotel and made inquiries. The name of Mainwaring was not in the visitors' book. "That is nothing," I said, turning to Mrs. Mainwaring; "will you please describe your husband to the manager?" She did so, entering into a minute and faithful description. "A tall gentleman, broadly made, with a slight stoop," repeated the manager after her "He wears glasses, does he not, madam?" "Sometimes, not always," she replied. "Has he a _pince-nez_ which he puts on whenever he wants to ask a question?" continued the manager. Mrs. Mainwaring turned crimson. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed, "then he _is_ here! Dr. Halifax, you are right." The manager asked further questions. "A great many gentlemen wear glasses," he said. "I should like to be quite certain that madam's husband is really one of the visitors before I disturb any of them. The hour is late too, close on eleven o'clock, and a good many of the guests have gone to their rooms. About what age is the gentleman whom you want to find, madam?"