"Naturally, or I should not have asked," said Tait, with faint sarcasm. "However, I must make a confidant of you, as I wish for your advice and assistance." "I shall be delighted to give both," said his friend briskly. "But here we are at my house, and there is my wife in the porch. My dear, this is an old college friend of mine, Spenser Tait. We must make him welcome, for the days that have been." Mrs. Brandon, a comfortable, rosy-cheeked matron, with two tiny Brandons clinging to her skirts, heartily welcomed Tait, and led the way to the dining room. Here an extra knife and fork were hastily produced for the guest, and they all sat down to luncheon in the best of spirits. For the moment Tait banished all thought of the case from his mind, and laid himself out to be agreeable to the vicar's wife. In this he succeeded, as she subsequently pronounced him to be a singularly charming man; while he pronounced her to be one of the most intelligent women it had been his fortune to meet. After luncheon Brandon conducted Tait to his study, and there, over an excellent cigar, the little man related the story of the Larcher affair from the time that Claude became possessed of the papers. Needless to say the clergyman was much astonished by the recital, and agreed with Tait that it was difficult to know which way to turn in the present dilemma. He thought that Denis was guilty and Jeringham an accomplice by force of circumstances; but doubted whether the existence of Louisa Sinclair might not altogether alter the complexion of the case. "Of course, the difficulty will be to find Louisa Sinclair," he said thoughtfully; "five-and-twenty years is a long time to go back to. She may be dead." "So she may," rejoined Tait a trifle tartly; "on the other hand she may be alive. I found that waiter and that gardener who were at Horriston then. Both remember the case, so it is probable that I shall find this woman, or at least gain sufficient information to trace her whereabouts." "I cannot recall her name, Tait. She has not been here in my time. Fortunately I can help you in this much; that an old parishioner of mine is calling to-day, and, as she has lived here for the last forty years and more, it is likely she will remember if such a person dwelt here." "Who is this old lady?" "My dear fellow, you must not call her an old lady. It is true she is over forty, but--well she is always young and charming in her own eyes. Miss Belinda Pike is her name, and I shouldn't like to come under the lash of her tongue." "Is she such a Tartar?" "She is----My dear fellow, you must not ask me to talk scandal about my parishioners; moreover, I see the lady in question is coming up the garden path. Once set her tongue going, and you will learn all the history of Horriston for the last hundred years." "I only want to go back twenty-five," rejoined Tait, smiling; and at that moment Miss Belinda Pike was announced.