“No, indeed, the best is all he cared for.  Honestly, Jane, haven’t you an admiration for a man of so much taste and ability?  Just think, he has entered four houses and there is not the slightest trace of him.”

“There must be traces of him,” said Geoffrey.  “The Inness house was entered after that snow storm in the early part of the month.  There must have been footprints.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Vaughan, “that is what makes me think that the watchmen are in it.  It’s probably a combination of two or three of them.”

“Well, that lets Geoffrey out,” said the irrepressible Florence.  “No one would take his watchman into any combination,—­he is a thousand and two and feeble for his age.  However, there is no use in discussing the possibility, for it is not a combination of watchmen, begging your pardon, Mr. Vaughan.  It is lonely genius, a slim, dark figure in a slouch hat.  That is the way I imagine him.  Do you really suppose that a watchman would take six pair of Mrs. Inness’ best linen sheets, embroidered in her initials, the monogram so thick that it scratches your nose; and a beautiful light blue silk coverlet,—­all just out from Paris.  I saw them when she first had them.”

“What,” said Geoffrey, addressing the other male intellect present, “do you make of the young woman who disposed of some of the Marheim silver in Boston?”

[Illustration:  “It was A young lady who disposed of the silver”]

But it was Mrs. May who answered:  “She is of course the lady of his love—­a lady doubtless of high social position in Boston.  There was a book about something like that once.  He is just waiting to make one more grand coup, rob the bank or something and then the world will be startled by the news of their elopement.  They will go and live somewhere luxuriously in the south Pacific, and travellers will bring home strange stories of their happiness and charm.  Perhaps, though, he would turn pirate.  That would suit his style.”

“I hope,” said Holland, “that he won’t take a fancy to rob the Hillsborough Bank, for I consider it public spirited to keep quite a little money there.  You begin to make me nervous.”

“No bank robbery would make me nervous,” replied his sister, “that is the comfort of being insignificant.  I have not enough money in any bank to know the difference, and as for my humble dwelling in Hillsborough, who would take the trouble to rifle it when Geoffrey’s palace is within an easy walk.  Besides, I haven’t anything worth the attention of a respectable burglar like this one.”

“Thank you,” said Geoffrey, “I’m sorry I spent so much time choosing your Christmas present a year ago.”

“Oh, of course, Geof dear, that wonderful old silver is valuable, but it is put away where I defy any burglar to find it.  There is only my sable coat, and I am going to send for that as soon as I have time to have it cut over.”