"Really, my dear aunt," protested Miss Gibson, as she caught my eye with
a look of comical alarm, "you will give Dr. Thorndyke a most erroneous
impression. I merely mentioned that I had intruded on him without notice
and had been received with undeserved indulgence and consideration."

"You didn't put it quite in that way, my dear," said Mrs. Hornby, "but I
suppose it doesn't matter."

"We are highly gratified by Miss Gibson's favourable report of us,
whatever may have been the actual form of expression," said Thorndyke,
with a momentary glance at the younger lady which covered her with
smiling confusion, "and we are deeply indebted to you for taking so much
trouble to help us."

"It is no trouble at all, but a great pleasure," replied Mrs. Hornby;
and she proceeded to enlarge on the matter until her remarks threatened,
like the rippling circles produced by a falling stone, to spread out
into infinity. In the midst of this discourse Thorndyke placed chairs
for the two ladies, and, leaning against the mantelpiece, fixed a stony
gaze upon the small handbag that hung from Mrs. Hornby's wrist.

"Is the 'Thumbograph' in your bag?" interrupted Miss Gibson, in response
to this mute appeal.

"Of course it is, my dear Juliet," replied the elder lady. "You saw me
put it in yourself. What an odd girl you are. Did you think I should
have taken it out and put it somewhere else? Not that these handbags are
really very secure, you know, although I daresay they are safer than
pockets, especially now that it is the fashion to have the pocket at the
back. Still, I have often thought how easy it would be for a thief or a