"Well, because we get many young ladies reported missing in the course of a year, and many of them we find, on inquiry, have hidden themselves purposely, for their own private reasons, quarrels, run-away matches, hiding from angry parents, and such-like causes. I tell you," he added, "some of the cases give us quite a lot of trouble and annoyance." "I'm quite sure that Miss Lethmere is not hiding herself purposely," I declared quickly. "There can be no object in her doing so." "No. Not as far as you are aware, sir," the inspector replied very politely. "But neither you nor I can always follow the trend of the feminine mind," he added with a faint smile. "You, of course, do not suspect the existence of any motive which would lead her to disappear intentionally. Nobody in such circumstances as yours, ever does. Do you happen to know whether she took any money with her when she left home?" "Mulliner, Lady Lethmere's maid, says that just before going out Miss Lethmere glanced in her purse, found that she only had a few shillings, and took four Treasury-notes from her jewel-box." "Was that all the money in the jewel-box?" he asked. "No. About eighteen pounds remains there now." "H'm. She evidently did not make any preparation for a journey--or any long absence." "Well," replied the inspector after a brief pause, "we will certainly circulate her description, and see what we can gather. The young lady may have met with a street accident, and be in one of the hospitals. Though I hope she hasn't, of course!" So with that rather poor assurance I had to be content, and took my leave. That afternoon I again went out to Hendon, making inquiry everywhere of the men who were Roseye's friends, but she certainly never went there on the Saturday, and I found her machine still in the hangar. Her mechanic knew nothing, for he had received no orders from her since Friday. Three days--three breathless anxious days passed. Ah! shall I ever forget the awful tension of those terrible hours! Sir Herbert had returned, and, with his wife, was naturally distracted. He was making inquiries in every quarter of friends and acquaintances, and of anyone who might have been likely to see his missing daughter. In this, both Teddy and I actively assisted him. On the third evening I returned to my rooms to wash, intending to go along to the Automobile Club to dine with the flying-boys who assembled there every night, when Theed told me that the police had, an hour before, rung me up from Scotland Yard, and requested me to go down there at once. This I did without delay and, having been shown into that big, bare waiting-room, the same dark-haired inspector came to see me. "Well, Mr Munro," he exclaimed, "we've met with no very great result, though the description of the missing young lady has been circulated right through the country. But the affair is certainly a mystery."