After writing a few letters, and looking into my bankbook, I arrayed myself in the purple and fine linen of the West End--that is, I assumed a frock coat, grey trousers, patent leather boots, and all the paraphernalia of society. Then I sallied forth, and--giving the Rippler a rest--jumped into a taxi-cab. After the perfect quietness of the country the bustle and roar of the many-colored life in London streets rather appealed to me. I was quite sorry when the vehicle stopped at my destination. A stately footman took my hat and gloves, and showed me into the smoking-room, where Lord Cannington awaited me. The boy sprang to his feet and rushed forward to shake hands. "I'm so glad to see you, Vance," he said breathlessly; "how jolly well you look. I suppose"----He began to laugh, and could get no further. "Well," said I, sitting down and accepting a cigarette, "I presume your laugh means that I am engaged." "Good Lord, no! I don't go so far as that. But you went in search of the original of the photograph, and having found her, I can see that love has proved to be the elixir of life." "You are quite poetical, Cannington, and excessively complimentary." "Oh, rot! I'm only speaking the truth. You looked as hard as nails." I laughed. "I don't know, but what I am as soft as butter, so far as the heart is concerned." "Ah, that's the effect of love," said Cannington wisely; "that is, if you really are in love. I say, old chap, are you in earnest?" "So much so that I am engaged." "Engaged! Good Lord!" "Engaged to Gertrude Monk, who loves me as much as I love her." "Good Lord!" said Cannington again, and rose to his feet to say it. "I say, you haven't lost much time, have you?" "No. Circumstances precipitated matters." "But are you sure that you are wise, Vance. Remember. 'Marry in haste and repent at leisure.'" I laughed again. It seemed so strange that the boy should advise an elderly person such as I was. "It's all right, Cannington, I know what I'm about. You shall be best man." "Delighted, and--I say--you don't mind me having said what I did say. We're old friends, you know." "That's all right, boy. Sit down, and I'll tell you everything that has taken place since we parted at Murchester. But I must ask you to be secret." Cannington flushed. "As if I'd be such a bounder as to talk of your love affairs," he growled. "The love affairs in this case are merely a side issue, although important enough to me, boy. What I wish to explain is what I have discovered with regard to Mrs. Caldershaw's death." "Oh!" Cannington jumped up again, greatly excited. "Are you prying into that still?" "Yes. It is that case which led me into the engagement with Gertrude. But I have given up searching further." "Why?"