"I don't say I understand it, sir. I only say it has set me thinking."

"Thinking of what? Do your suspicions point to the thief?"

"If you will please to excuse me, Mr. Troy, I should like to wait a
while before I answer that."

Mr. Troy suddenly stood still, and eyed his companion a little
distrustfully.

"Are you going to turn detective-policeman on your own account?" he
asked.

"There's nothing I won't turn to, and try, to help Miss Isabel in this
matter," Moody answered, firmly. "I have saved a few hundred pounds in
Lady Lydiard's service, and I am ready to spend every farthing of it, if
I can only discover the thief."

Mr. Troy walked on again. "Miss Isabel seems to have a good friend in
you," he said. He was (perhaps unconsciously) a little offended by
the independent tone in which the steward spoke, after he had himself
engaged to take the vindication of the girl's innocence into his own
hands.

"Miss Isabel has a devoted servant and slave in me!" Moody answered,
with passionate enthusiasm.

"Very creditable; I haven't a word to say against it," Mr. Troy
rejoined. "But don't forget that the young lady has other devoted
friends besides you. I am her devoted friend, for instance--I have