THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way backto London, led to some practical results.

Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missingmoney was for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one ofthose bold suggestions with which she was accustomed to startleher friends in cases of emergency. She had heard favorablereports of the extraordinary ingenuity of the French police; andshe now proposed sending to Paris for assistance, after firstconsulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir. "Felix knows Paris aswell as he knows London," she remarked. "He is an idle man, andit is quite likely that he will relieve us of all trouble bytaking the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure toknow who are the right people to address in our presentnecessity. What do you say?"

Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom ofemploying foreigners in a delicate investigation which requiredan accurate knowledge of English customs and English character.Waiving this objection, he approved of the idea of consulting herLadyship's nephew. "Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world," he said."In putting the case before him, we are sure to have it presentedto us from a new point of view." Acting on this favorableexpression of opinion, Lady Lydiard wrote to her nephew. On theday after the visit to Miss Pink, the proposed council of threewas held at Lady Lydiard's house.

Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even laterthan usual on this occasion. He made his apologies with his handpressed upon his forehead, and his voice expressive of thelanguor and discouragement of a suffering man.

"The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves," said Mr.Sweetsir--"the horrid weight of the atmosphere, after theexhilarating air of Paris; the intolerable dirt and dullness ofLondon, you know. I was in bed, my dear aunt, when I receivedyour letter. You may imagine the completely demoralised?? state Iwas in, when I tell you of the effect which the news of therobbery produced on me. I fell back on my pillow, as if I hadbeen shot. Your Ladyship should really be a little more carefulin communicating these disagreeable surprises to asensitively-organised man. Never mind--my valet is a perfecttreasure; he brought me some drops of ether on a lump of sugar. Isaid, 'Alfred' (his name is Alfred), 'put me into my clothes!'Alfred put me in. I assure you it reminded me of my young days,when I was put into my first pair of trousers. Has Alfredforgotten anything? Have I got my braces on? Have I come out inmy shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;--well, Mr. Troy!--what can Isay? What can I do?"

Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering,nodded to the lawyer. "You tell him," she said.

"I believe I speak for her Ladyship," Mr. Troy began, "when I saythat we should like to hear, in the first place, how the wholecase strikes you, Mr. Sweetsir?"

"Tell it me all over again," said Felix.

Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again--and waited for theresult.

"Well?" said Felix.

"Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Where does the suspicion of robbery restin your opinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with afresh eye."

"You mentioned a clergyman just now," said Felix. "The man, youknow, to whom the money was sent. What was his name?"

"The Reverend Samuel Bradstock."

"You want me to name the person whom I suspect?"

"Yes, if you please," said Mr. Troy.

"I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock," said Felix.

"If you have come here to make stupid jokes," interposed LadyLydiard, "you had better go back to your bed again. We want aserious opinion."

"You _have_ a serious opinion," Felix coolly rejoined. "I neverwas more in earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of thefirst principle to be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceedson what I will call the exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus:Does suspicion point to the honest servants downstairs? No. Toyour Ladyship's adopted daughter? Appearances are against thepoor girl; but you know her better than to trust to appearances.Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman--who was in thehouse at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at thetime, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous,too. Now let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody,Hardyman, Sweetsir--all beyond suspicion. Who is left? TheReverend Samuel Bradstock."

This ingenious exposition of "the exhaustive system ofreasoning," failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. "Youare wasting our time," she said sharply. "You know as well as Ido that you are talking nonsense."

"I don't," said Felix. "Taking the gentlemanly professions allround, I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and whohave so few scruples about how they get it, as the parsons. Whereis there a man in any other profession who perpetually worriesyou for money?--who holds the bag under your nose for money?--whosends his clerk round from door to door to beg a few shillings ofyou, and calls it an 'Easter offering'? The parson does all this.Bradstock is a parson. I put it logically. Bowl me over, if youcan."

Mr. Troy attempted to "bowl him over," nevertheless. Lady Lydiardwisely interposed.

"When a man persists in talking nonsense," she said, "silence isthe best answer; anything else only encourages him." She turnedto Felix. "I have a question to ask you," she went on. "You willeither give me a serious reply, or wish me good-morning." Withthis brief preface, she made her inquiry as to the wisdom andpossibility of engaging the services of the French police.

Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been alreadyexpressed by Mr. Troy. "Superior in intelligence," he said, "butnot superior in courage, to the English police. Capable ofperforming wonders on their own ground and among their ownpeople. But, my dear aunt, the two most dissimilar nations on theface of the earth are the English and the French. The Frenchpolice may speak our language--but they are incapable ofunderstanding our national character and our national manners.Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city of Pekin--andthey would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set them towork in the city of London--and the English people would remain,from first to last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In mybelief the London Sunday would be enough of itself to drive themback to Paris in despair. No balls, no concerts, no theaters, noteven a museum or a picture-gallery open; every shop shut up butthe gin-shop; and nothing moving but the church bells and the menwho sell the penny ices. Hundreds of Frenchmen come to see me ontheir first arrival in England. Every man of them rushes back toParis on the second Saturday of his visit, rather than confrontthe horrors of a second Sunday in London! However, you can try itif you like. Send me a written abstract of the case, and I willforward it to one of the official people in the Rue Jerusalem,who will do anything he can to oblige me. Of course," said Felix,turning to Mr. Troy, "some of you have got the number of the lostbank-note? If the thief has tried to pass it in Paris, my man maybe of some use to you."

"Three of us have got the number of the note," answered Mr. Troy;"Miss Isabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself."

"Very good," said Felix. "Send me the number, with the abstractof the case. Is there anything else I can do towards recoveringthe money?" he asked, turning to his aunt. "There is one luckycircumstance in connection with this loss--isn't there? It hasfallen on a person who is rich enough to take it easy. Goodheavens! suppose it had been _my_ loss!"

"It has fallen doubly on me," said Lady Lydiard; "and I amcertainly not rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money wasdestined to a charitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty topay it again."

Felix rose and approached his aunt's chair with faltering steps,as became a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard's hand and kissedit with enthusiastic admiration.

"You excellent creature!" he said. "You may not think it, but youreconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I thinkI'll go to bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don't want any moreof me. My head feels giddy and my legs tremble under me. Itdoesn't matter; I shall feel easier when Alfred has taken me outof my clothes again. God bless you, my dear aunt! I never felt soproud of being related to you as I do to-day. Good-morning Mr.Troy! Don't forget the abstract of the case; and don't troubleyourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan't tumbledownstairs; and, if I do, there's the porter in the hall to pickme up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as apig! _Au revoir! au revoir!_" He kissed his hand, and driftedfeebly out of the room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state ofeclipse; but still the serviceable Sweetsir, who was neverconsulted in vain by the fortunate people privileged to call himfriend!

"Is he really ill, do you think?" Mr. Troy asked.

"My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and hepersists in living as if he was a young man. Every now and thenNature says to him, 'Felix, you are old!' And Felix goes to bed,and says it's his nerves."

"I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing toParis?" pursued the lawyer.

"Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite ofhis lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that wouldsurprise you. Talking of surprises, I have something to tell youabout Moody. Within the last day or two there has been a markedchange in him--a change for the worse."

"You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moodydeteriorated?"

"You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you,on business, early in the morning."

Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirableto mention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him ofhis guinea.

"In the course of the afternoon," pursued Lady Lydiard, "Ihappened to want him, and I was informed that Moody had gone outagain. Where had he gone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when hewould be back? He had left no message of any sort. Of course, heis not in the position of an ordinary servant. I don't expect himto ask permission to go out. But I do expect him to leave worddownstairs of the time at which he is likely to return. When hedidcome back, after an absence of some hours, I naturally asked foran explanation. Would you believe it? he simply informed me thathe had been away on business of his own; expressed no regret, andoffered no explanation--in short, spoke as if he was anindependent gentleman. You may not think it, but I kept mytemper. I merely remarked that I hoped it would not happen again.He made me a bow, and he said, 'My business is not completed yet,my Lady. I cannot guarantee that it may not call me away again ata moment's notice.' What do you think of that? Nine people out often would have given him warning to leave their service. I beginto think I am a wonderful woman--I only pointed to the door. Onedoes hear sometimes of men's brains softening in the mostunexpected manner. I have my suspicions of Moody's brains, I cantell you."

Mr. Troy's suspicions took a different direction: they pointedalong the line of streets which led to Old Sharon's lodgings.Discreetly silent as to the turn which his thoughts had taken, hemerely expressed himself as feeling too much surprised to offerany opinion at all.

"Wait a little," said Lady Lydiard, "I haven't done surprisingyou yet. You have been a boy here in a page's livery, I think?Well, he is a good boy; and he has gone home for a week's holidaywith his friends. The proper person to supply his place with theboots and shoes and other small employments, is of course theyoungest footman, a lad only a few years older than himself. Whatdo you think Moody does? Engages a stranger, with the house fullof idle men-servants already, to fill the page's place. Atintervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merry in theservants hall--_so_ merry that the noise and laughter found itsway upstairs to the breakfast-room. I like my servants to be ingood spirits; but it certainly did strike me that they weregetting beyond reasonable limits. I questioned my maid, and wasinformed that the noise was all due to the jokes of the strangestold man that ever was seen. In other words, to the person whom mysteward had taken it on himself to engage in the page's absence.I spoke to Moody on the subject. He answered in an odd, confusedway, that he had exercised his discretion to the best of hisjudgment and that (if I wished it), he would tell the old man tokeep his good spirits under better control. I asked him how hecame to hear of the man. He only answered, 'By accident, myLady'--and not one more word could I get out of him, good or bad.Moody engages the servants, as you know; but on every otheroccasion he has invariably consulted me before an engagement wassettled. I really don't feel at all sure about this person whohas been so strangely introduced into the house--he may be adrunkard or a thief. I wish you would speak to Moody yourself,Mr. Troy. Do you mind ringing the bell?"

Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell.

He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moodyhad not only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his ownresponsibility, but worse still, had taken the unwarrantableliberty of introducing him, as a spy, into the house. Tocommunicate this explanation to Lady Lydiard would, in herpresent humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of the stewardfrom her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave tointerrogate Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, toinsist on the departure of Old Sharon as the one condition onwhich Mr. Troy would consent to keep Lady Lydiard in ignorance ofthe truth.

"I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship willpermit me to see him in private," the lawyer said. "Shall I godownstairs and speak with him in his own room?"

"Why should you trouble yourself to do that?" said her Ladyship."See him here; and I will go into the boudoir."

As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-roomdoor.

"Send Moody here," said Lady Lydiard.

The footman's answer, delivered at that moment, assumed animportance which was not expressed in the footman's words. "MyLady," he said, "Mr. Moody has gone out."