"He looks nearly forty," she replied at once, "although he is not in reality nearly so old. His hair is dark and slightly tinged with grey." The manager called one of the waiters and spoke a few words to him. He then returned to us. "I think," he said, "that there is a gentleman here who answers to madam's description, but I cannot find his name. Through an oversight it has not been entered in the visitors' book. The hotel is very full this evening. The gentleman who answers to your description," he continued, looking at Mrs. Mainwaring, "is occupying No. 39. Do you think you would know him by his boots?" "Certainly," she replied. "Then they are probably at this moment outside his door. I will have them fetched, and you can look at them. Will you have the goodness to step inside the office, Mrs. Mainwaring, and you too, please, sir?" I gave the manager my card, and told him that I was Mrs. Mainwaring's medical adviser. He motioned us to chairs, and in a short time a waiter appeared with a pair of boots on a tray. "I have just taken these from outside the door of No. 39," he said, holding them up for inspection. A glance told me that they belonged to a large, but well-shaped foot. Mrs. Mainwaring rushed forward, gave utterance to a rejoicing cry, and picked them up. "These are undoubtedly Edward's boots," she exclaimed. "Yes, he is here. Thank the merciful God we have found him!" "The gentleman has been in his room for some little time," exclaimed a waiter who had now come upon the scene. "Would madam like me to announce her arrival?" "No," she said, turning very pale. "I will go to him without being announced. Will you come with me, Dr. Halifax?" We went upstairs, and the chambermaid conducted us to the door of No. 39. We knocked. The door was locked from within, but our summons was immediately answered by the approach of a manly step. The door was flung open and Mainwaring, with a Baedeker's guide in his hand, stood before us. Mrs. Mainwaring rushed to him and impulsively endeavoured to throw her arms round his neck. He started back in astonishment which was not feigned. "May I ask?" he said, looking at me, his eyes darkening with anger, "to what I am indebted for this--this most extraordinary intrusion?" "Don't you know me, Edward?" sobbed the poor girl. "I am your wife." "You must be mad," he said. He looked at her with a blank stare of undisguised astonishment and even disgust. "I have not the pleasure of this lady's acquaintance," he said, addressing me in an icy tone. [Illustration: "DON'T YOU KNOW ME, EDWARD?"] "You don't know me?" she panted. "Oh, surely that must be impossible. I am your wife, Edward. Look at me again, and you will remember me. I am Nancy's mother--pretty Nancy, with her curling hair; you know how fond you are of Nancy. Don't you remember Nancy, and Bob, and baby?--I am their mother. Dear, dear Edward, look at me again and you will know me. Look at me hard--I am your wife--your own most loving wife."