he was an only child. I don't think it possible that
Eudora had any young girl relative."

"If she had," said Sally, firmly, "she would have
kept this dress. You are sure there was nobody
else living with Content's aunt at the time she died?"

"Nobody except the servants, and they were an
old man and his wife."

"Then whose dress was this?"

"I don't know, Sally."

"You don't know, and I don't. It is very strange."

"I suppose," said Edward Patterson, helpless be-
fore the feminine problem, "that -- Eudora got it in
some way."

"In some way," repeated Sally. "That is always
a man's way out of a mystery when there is a mys-
tery. There is a mystery. There is a mystery which
worries me. I have not told you all yet, Edward."

"What more is there, dear?"

"I -- asked Content whose dress this was, and
she said -- Oh, Edward, I do so despise mysteries."