"Oh, I don't know. You have a clever face. Just the kind of a face that one would think a brilliant detective would have. You must have some suspicions?" Again her eyes searched his face. "No," he protested. "I was asleep. I know nothing about the matter." "How stupid of you!" said Mrs. Ward, beginning to think that her condescension in asking Leonard to dinner was wasted. "But you men are always so blind, poor dears! What kind of a woman was Mrs. Jersey?" "A nice motherly old creature." "I know--like a monthly nurse. Was Mr. Brendon introduced to her?" "Yes. I took him into the drawing-room." "Really. Have they drawing-rooms in Bloomsbury? How nice and civilized! Well, did Mrs. Jersey and Mr. Brendon get on well together? I want to know because you see, Mr. Train, he admires Dorothy, and it is such a sign of a man's good-nature if he gets on well with strangers. I suppose Mrs. Jersey liked him?" "I think she did," replied Leonard, on whose weak head the claret was beginning to take effect, "but she was rather startled when she saw him first." Mrs. Ward's eyes flashed so brightly that Leonard would have been warned of his indiscretion had he not been looking at his plate. "Oh, how very interesting! But she never saw him before. Why should she be startled?" "It wasn't at him exactly," said Leonard, "but at a piece of yellow holly he wore in his coat." "Yellow holly," repeated Mrs. Ward, with feigned surprise. "Why, of course Mr. Brendon wore a sprig. My daughter gave it to him." "So he told me, Mrs. Ward." "And I gave it to Dorothy," continued Mrs. Ward, who for some reason wished to make an explicit statement. "It is very rare, you know, and a man who lives in Devonshire sent me a bunch. Dorothy mentioned that Mr. Brendon had begged for a piece. Yes! he would naturally wear it on that night, as he had just left my house. But why was this unfortunate woman surprised?" "I can't say; but she was," answered Train; "she turned white, and we all thought she was about to faint." "Did she give any explanation?" "No. In a few moments she recovered, and nothing more was said." "Oh!" Mrs. Ward seemed disappointed. "Was that all?" "Why--" Leonard turned his dull eyes on her flushed face--"what else did you expect to hear, Mrs. Ward?" "Nothing! Nothing," she said hurriedly, for she did not wish to make him suspicious, "but it seems so odd. Dorothy giving the holly, you know, and that Mrs. Jersey should be upset. We must continue this conversation, Mr. Train. It is really most interesting. But you literary men are quite fascinating. After dinner in the drawing-room, Mr. Train. Dorothy!" She signaled with her fan, and her daughter arose. "Don't be too long over your wine," said Mrs. Ward, as she left the room. "We can't spare you, Mr. Train."