‘If she wrote it she took it away in her pocket,’ said Maud; and then she opened the ink-bottle and saw that it had been washed out that morning and not refilled. Mrs. Belassis had certainly written no letter there that day. What she had done, the girl was at a loss to imagine. All that she could tell was that her aunt’s visit was certain to mean mischief of some kind. Mrs. Belassis had ample food for reflection on her homeward way, and very earnestly did she strive to form some theory as to the respective position of Phil and his friend, so as to prove, if possible, that the former was acting in a reprehensible manner. At last an idea was hit upon which seemed to satisfy her; at any rate, it gave a semblance of reality to her suspicions. ‘I believe he has got his friend shut up in a lunatic asylum somewhere—unless he has put him out of the way altogether; and he is playing a double game—sometimes Torwood and sometimes himself. I suppose he was Torwood abroad, whilst he was the rich man; and here he is Debenham; thus reaping the benefits of both characters. Perhaps Mr. Torwood’s mind has been failing of late, so that he has learned to depend upon Philip; yes, that is very likely. And now that he has money of his own, he has just disposed of his friend anyhow—no doubt in a madhouse—and is figuring about here as a great man, and spending his friend’s money as well as his own. Oh, you’re a nice young man, Philip Debenham! No wonder you keep your friend at a distance, and don’t trouble yourself about him. No wonder nobody can get to know anything definite about the “Tor” who was once all your talk. A very nice thing it will be for you when I bring it home to you! Oh yes, you will enjoy that very much; and I wonder what the law will say to these little transactions with Torwood’s money;’ and in this strain Mrs. Belassis kept on, her spirits rising and her confidence in her theory increasing with every step she took. But when she felt in her pocket, and her hand came in contact with the stiff paper it held, her face changed suddenly, and the old look of rage and fear returned. ‘If old Maynard is right, if there is another will, and if that will is ever found—then we shall be ruined! Why did I ever marry such a fool as Alfred Belassis? I could do anything if it were not for his clumsiness!’ CHAPTER III. THE MISSING PAPER. Tor did not return to Ladywell until late at night, having missed a train at one of the junctions, where his cross route obliged him to change. Maud, therefore, said nothing to him about Mrs. Belassis’ strange behaviour until the following afternoon, when they rode out together, and then she told him as much as she knew of this oddly-timed visit. ‘Wanted to see me, did she?’ said Tor. ‘I wonder what for. I’ll call at Thornton House this evening and ask. I can walk over after dinner.’