quite unused to deception of any kind, and consequently rendered acutely uneasy

when forced to practice it. A child could have seen through her.

 

But it was also clear that she had no intention of telling me anything further.

Whatever the mystery centering around Ursula Bourne might be, I was not going to

learn it through Mrs. Folliott.

 

Defeated, I apologized once more for disturbing her, took my hat and departed.

 

I went to see a couple of patients and arrived home about six o’clock.

 

Caroline was sitting beside the wreck of tea things. She had that look of

suppressed exultation on her face which I know only too well.

 

It is a sure sign with her, of either the getting or the giving of information.

I wondered which it had been.

 

“I’ve had a very interesting afternoon,” began Caroline as I dropped into my own

particular easy chair, and stretched out my feet to the inviting blaze in the

fireplace.

 

“Have you?” I asked. “Miss Ganett drop in to tea?”

 

Miss Ganett is one of the chief of our newsmongers.