M R. JARRAD was a tall, lean man, with very quiet eyes, an observant air, and an impassive face. His clothing was unobtrusive and seemed to have arrived at that point of age at which clothing shows no further sign of wear. He was standing near the fireplace of an old-fashioned, oak-paneled room, and from his expression one might assume that he beheld its entire contents at a glance. Presently he fingered a bowl on the gray stone mantelpiece. “One blue six-inch Delft, slightly chipped in two plac

M ISS DERRICK left the room, and Perkins stood motionless as though she welcomed its silence. Her eyes took on a strange expression as she scanned this apartment, with every least detail of which she was utterly familiar. The paneling ran nearly to the ceiling, and was topped by a narrow shelf. The west wall was dominated by the fireplace, and in the corner, placed at a slight angle from the wall itself, was the big desk. Sitting there, one looked not out through the French window, but almost di

A WEEK passed at Beech Lodge, while Derrick endeavored to get down to work; but in spite of every effort, progress seemed impossible. Ideas, when they came, were illusory; his characters imbued themselves with strange aspirations and qualities, and plot after plot was displaced by the secret but constantly strengthening conviction that this novel was not, for the present at any rate, the most important thing in life. More than ever he was fascinated by Millicent’s study and the nameless advances

S OME TWO weeks after the staff of Beech Lodge had been completed by the engagement of the gardener, Mrs. Millicent and her daughter were walking along a quiet lane at a little distance from their old home. The house itself they had not seen since the time of the tragedy, and over them still hung the weight of a great grief. It had touched Mrs. Millicent’s hair with gray and given her a strangely wistful expression. Her sorrow was increased by the belief that her husband had had an enemy, the hu

T HE VILLAGE of Bamberley lay about two miles from Beech Lodge, a homelike nest of buildings gathered in a wrinkle of the Sussex hills. It was well removed from any main road, and its thatched roofs and crooked cobbled streets had fortunately escaped the demoralizing finger of progress. It was, in fact, just as it had always been in the memory of its oldest inhabitant. A village green, with the pens of the cattle market just across the road, a rambling public house, whose swinging sign creaked c

T HE THING on the table was a diminutive image, about three and a half inches high. It was carved, apparently, from a single block of the most perfect jade, and when the sergeant, fingering it delicately, held it toward the window, the light filtered through it, illuminating it with striking translucency. The base was perhaps two and a half inches square, supporting a tiny throne, on which sat a figure clothed in flowing robes. Each individual drape and fold was produced with absolute fidelity.

H E WENT to the Millicents’ that afternoon, the bangle in his pocket, and found Jean unaffectedly glad to see him. Mrs. Millicent had said nothing to her daughter, but her manner had been that of one who approves. She liked Derrick and had conceived a genuine fondness for Edith. The contemplated summer in France was becoming a little indefinite. In a few moments she murmured something and disappeared. Derrick thought rapidly and looked straight into the girl’s clear eyes. Then he held out the ba

D ERRICK walked quickly back, slackening speed as he approached the Lodge, and reëntering the grounds from the direction in which he had started. There was a light in the cottage kitchen, but neither man came to the window as he passed. In the study he found Edith beside the tea-tray. She handed him his cup, and with it sent an inquiring glance. “How’s your friend the peddler behaving himself, and what did Jean say?” He flushed a little. “She didn’t say very much, but”—he smiled reminiscently—“s

I T HAD been a cold night, and frost still sparkled on the dank grass when Derrick neared the Millicents’. He had spent sleepless hours picturing this meeting, recounting all there was to be said, and casting about as to how the story might be put so as to revive as little as possible the poignant memories of two years ago. It was a strange mission that carried him now to his girl, but she greeted him with a calm suggesting that she was not altogether unprepared. Mrs. Millicent, unmistakably agi

I T TOOK all Jean’s courage to go with Edith when the time came. She had had a not altogether comforting talk with her mother, in which, knowing that it was unwise to tell Mrs. Millicent too much, she only said that Edith wanted her to dine at Beech Lodge and that she might be able to help Derrick in his self-imposed task. Her mother assented, with a curious glance that suggested that it was not altogether the task that took her daughter to her old home. Jean, realizing the futility of fuller ex

T HE WHOLE earth, bathed in bright sun and clear air, looked younger when Derrick walked into Bamberley next morning. It seemed but an hour since he had piloted Jean back through the fog, and when they parted she had clung to him for a wonderful moment that needed no words. His mind was still in a whirl, and with difficulty he pitched it forward to Bamberley jail. Martin had been brought there in the gray of dawn, and with him the body of his wife, which rested where so lately the stiff figure o

D ERRICK got back to Beech Lodge in time for lunch and plunged at once into a vastly different atmosphere. The house was servantless, and this very fact had kept Edith too busy to indulge in any morbid reflections, even had her resilient nature felt so inclined. She was moved by the knowledge that her brother had been under a strain which, however incomprehensible to herself, was nevertheless to him very real. It was reflected in his eyes, his restless manner, and the notes that had lain untouch

T HREE DAYS later Mrs. Millicent and Jean turned in at the gate of Beech Lodge. It was the first time in more than two years they had been there together. Half-way up the drive they were met by Edith, who came out anxious to do what she could to help in what she knew was a trying moment. She kissed Jean affectionately. “I’m so glad to see you both. You’ll find the house at loose ends, for it isn’t actually running, but just moving, so please forgive that. Our temporary servants are very temporar