smiled again.

"Go back quickly," he said to the man, "and tell Thompson to send along the next telegram."

A consignment of Waterford hunters was being sold at the time, and the baronet was checking the animals' descriptions on the catalogue, when he was cheerily addressed:

"Hallo, Dyke, preparing for the shires, eh?"

Wheeling round, the baronet shook hands with Claude Bruce.

"Yes--that is, I am looking out for a couple of nice-mannered ones for my wife. I have six eating their heads off at Market Harborough now."

Bruce hesitated. "Will Lady Dyke hunt this season?" he asked.

"Well, hardly that. But she likes to dodge about the lanes with the parson and the doctor."

"I only inquired because she told me last night that she would probably winter in the South of France."

"Told you--last night--South of France!" Sir Charles Dyke positively gasped in his amazement.

"Why, yes. I met her at Victoria. She was going to Richmond to see her sister, she said."

"I am jolly glad to hear it."

"Glad! Why?"

"Because I have not seen her myself since yesterday morning. She went off mysteriously, late in the afternoon, leaving a message with the servants. Naturally I am glad to hear from you that she got into the train all right."

"I put her in the carriage myself. Have you not heard from her?"

"No. I wired this morning, and expect an answer at any moment. But what is this about the South of France? We go to Leicestershire next week."

"I can't say, of course. Your wife seemed to be a little upset about something. She only mentioned her intention casually--in fact, when I asked if we would meet soon."

The other laughed, a little oddly in the opinion of his astute observer, and dismissed the matter by the remark that the expected message from his wife would soon clear the slight mystery attending her movements during the past eighteen hours.The two men set themselves to the congenial task 

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