She answered affirmatively.

“H—­mn!” He paused.  “But tell me why you have not been pleased with him, and, in brief, all the circumstances of his coming here.”

Miss Van Rolsen did so in a voice she strove to make patient although she could not disguise its tremulousness, or the feverish anxiety that consumed her.  She related the most trivial details, seeming irrelevances, but the visitor did not interrupt her.  Instead, he studied carefully her face, pinched and worn; the angular figure, slightly bent; the fingers, nervously clasping and unclasping as she spoke.  He watched her through habit; and still forbore speaking, even when she referred to the escape of her canine favorite from his caretaker and how the dog had later been returned, though the listener’s eyes had, at this point, dilated slightly.

“After his carelessness in this matter, he seemed to want to get away from the house at once,” observed Miss Van Rolsen, “without availing himself of the two-weeks’ notice I had agreed to give him.”

The visitor relapsed into his chair; an ironical light appeared in his eyes.

“Perhaps,” added Miss Van Rolsen, “you attach no significance to the fact?”

“On the contrary, I attach every importance to it.  Has it not occurred to you there was a little collusion in this matter of the lost dog?”

“Collusion?” Miss Van Rolsen’s accents expressed incredulity.  “You must be wrong.  Why, the young woman wouldn’t even accept the reward.  And it was not a small one!”

“Two hundred or so dollars, ma’am!  Not her stake!” he murmured satirically.  “I am afraid two hundred thousand dollars would be nearer the mark these people have set for themselves!”

“But she didn’t ask for a place here; only for me to look over her references—­one was from a lady I knew in Paris—­and to recommend her to my friends—­”

“She knew your other maid had left; this confederate had, of course, told her.  It was all arranged that she should come here.  Rest assured of that.  And having accomplished her purpose—­clever that she is!—­she at once started to ingratiate herself with your niece, to make herself useful.  As a mistress of languages she was useful, in fact more so than any ordinary maid.  Where did she come from?  Find out whom she represents, and—­we’ll have the key to the mystery.  But she, too, has disappeared; after turning the game over to the others, perhaps.  I would suggest cabling those foreign references this young woman gave you.  They will, of course, including your Paris friend, know nothing of her; the name she gave you was not her own.”

“But by what unfortunate combination of circumstances”—­Miss Van Rolsen spoke somewhat incoherently—­“should these people have been led to settle on my niece as the victim of their cowardly designs?  There are so many others—­”

“You forget the publicity concerning this prince your niece is to marry.”  The old lady stiffened.  “Pardon my mentioning it, but Miss Dalrymple has in this connection been very much before the public gaze.”