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"Very good, Jaggard," broke in the major, "you can go. Maurice!" he turned to the young man when Jaggard left the room, "what do you mean by all these questions and examinations? Do you suspect anyone?",

"Molly," he said in a voice that might have come down from heaven on dove wings, "you can't for a moment feel or think that I don't realise and appreciate what you have been to the motherless little chap, and for life I am yours at command, as he is. I really thought it would be a relief to you to have him taken away from you for a little while just now, and I still think it is best; but not unless you consent. You shall have him back whenever you are ready for him, and at all times both he and I are at your service to the whole of our kingdoms. Just think the matter over, won't you, and decide what you want me to do?",

"My mother is so cruel," said Isabella in a low tone, "and I feel so ill," she continued, raising her hand to her loose hair. "Yes, yes; I must go home. But Maurice--my dear Maurice.",

"No," she said, quietly "I may persuade her into doing what I want."

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"Who lighted the lamp?" demanded Jen, sharply.,

That it was a crime he was certain, for there was no reasonable idea to suppose that Maurice had committed suicide. He had left for Deanminster hardly three hours before, full of health and spirits; and now he was dead. A dead body, a lonely road--all the evidence of an atrocious assassination having been committed, and not one trace of the assassin. Undoubtedly the twice-uttered cry had come from Maurice, and as Jen had raced out of the house after the first time he heard it, he must have reached his boy almost immediately after he died; before, so to speak, the body had time to grow cold. Yet the strange part of the affair was that the body was cold, and that there did not seem to be any wound whereby the murder could have been achieved.,

"I do wish they wouldn't send those circulars to us. They're so disappointing, for half the time they look like real letters," said Judith, reaching an eager hand for her own mail. "I think they ought to keep them for older people who don't care so much. Oh, it is Mrs. Shelly, Miss Pat," she broke off, as she tore open the first envelope and began eagerly to scan the sheets.,

"Well," said Jen, seeing that the man spoke in all good faith, "the body of Mr. Maurice was stolen on that night."