Ray drew forth his pocket-book as he spoke, opened it, took out a folded paper, and handed it to Mona.

She opened it, and found carefully pinned within, a scrap of mauve colored ladies’ cloth, in the form of a ragged acute angle.

“It is almost like broadcloth—­very fine and heavy,” she exclaimed.  “It is a lovely color, too, and must have been a very beautiful costume.”

“It was, and dangerously so,” said Ray, dryly.  “I admired it exceedingly, especially the fit and make of it.”

“I imagine it might have been found in some dye-house shortly after, if you had only thought of it and known where to look,” Mona thoughtfully observed.

“That is a bright idea,” said Ray, quickly.  “I honestly believe that women would make keener and better detectives than men.  But,” with a sigh, “I’m afraid it is too late now to put your theory to the test, and perhaps I have brushed against its folds on the street a dozen times since in a different color.  Well, I suppose I must try to reconcile myself to the inevitable and make up my mind that the stones are gone beyond recovery, unless this Mrs. Vanderheck should prove to be the thief.  I have not much faith in the detective’s theory, that the Chicago adventuress and our diamond thief are one and the same.”

“There seems to be a singular coincidence about the name of the lady who so imposed upon you, and that of the one who is now under arrest,” Mona remarked.

“Yes, the only difference is in one letter, and if Mrs. Vanderheck does not prove to be my charmer, or connected with her in any way, I shall be tempted to believe that she purposely took a name so similar in order to throw suspicion upon this woman,” said the young man, thoughtfully.

“That may be; and is it not a little suspicious, too, that Mrs. Vanderbeck should have mentioned an invalid husband when Mrs. Vanderheck really has one?” Mona inquired.

“I had not thought of that before,” Ray replied.  “Still another singular circumstance comes to my mind just at this moment.  At the time I was introduced to Mrs. Vanderheck, at Mrs. Merrill’s reception, I repeated the name as if it was spelled with a ‘b,’ and emphasized the last syllable.  The woman started, glanced at me curiously, and changed color a trifle, while she did not seem to quite recover her self-possession throughout our conversation.”

“That does seem rather strange, considering all things,” said Mona.  “Perhaps, after all, she may prove to be your adventuress; and yet she must be a very bold one to flaunt her plunder so recklessly and in the very presence of people who would be sure to recognize it.”

They changed the subject after that, and chatted upon topics of a more tender and interesting nature.

It was a delightful walk in the mild February air, and a pleasant interview, and both were loath to part when they suddenly found themselves at the other end of the pine-shadowed lane where it curved into the main road again.