But there was no clue. Everything was in order, and all just as a
well-bred, refined woman would have her belongings.

The bedroom was over the dining-room, and back of this, over the
pantry extension, was Vicky Van's dressing-room.

This was a bijou boudoir, and dressing-table, chiffonier, robe-chests,
and jewel-caskets were all in keeping with the personality of their
owner. The walls were panelled in pale rose color, and a few fine
pictures were in absolute harmony. A long mirror was in a Florentine
gilt frame, and a _chaise longue_, by a reading table, bespoke hours
of ease.

Ruthlessly, Lowney pried into everything, ran his arm among the gowns
hanging in the wardrobe, and looked into the carved chests.

Again no clue. The perfect order everywhere, showed, perhaps,
preparation for guests, but nothing indicated flight or hiding. The
dressing-table boxes held some bits of jewelry but nothing of really
great value. An escritoire was full of letters and papers, and this,
Lowney locked, and put the key in his pocket.

"If it's all right," he said, "there's no harm done. And if the lady
doesn't show up, we must examine the stuff."

On we went to the third floor of the house. The rooms here were
unused, save one that was evidently Julie's. The furnishings, though
simple, were attractive, and showed a thoughtful mistress and an
appreciative maid. Everything was in order. Several uniforms of black
and of gray were in the cupboard, and several white aprons and one