Not till he was in the train did Mr. Slotman begin to gather together all the threads of evidence.  “I should not describe Lady Linden as a pleasant person,” he decided, “still, her information will prove of the utmost value to me.  On the whole I am glad I went.”  He felt satisfied; he had discovered all that was discoverable, so far as Cornbridge was concerned.

“Married in eighteen, June of eighteen,” he muttered, “at Marlbury, Dorset.  I’ll bet she wasn’t!  She may have said she was, but she wasn’t!” He chuckled grimly.  He was beginning to see through it.  “I suppose she told that tale, and then it got about, and then the fellow came and offered her marriage as the only possible way out.  I’d like to choke the brute!”

Slotman slept that night in London, and early the following morning he was on his way to Marlbury.  He found it a little quiet country town, where information was to be had readily enough.  It took him but a few minutes to discover that there was a school for young ladies, a school of repute, kept by a Miss Skinner.  It was the only ladies’ school in or near the town, and so Mr. Slotman made his way in that direction, and in a little time was ushered into the presence of the headmistress.

“I must apologise,” he said, “for this intrusion.”

Miss Skinner bowed.  She was tall and thin, angular and severe, a typical headmistress, stern and unyielding.

“I am,” Slotman lied, “a solicitor from London, and I am interested in a young lady who a matter of three years ago was, I believe, a pupil in this school.”

“Indeed?”

“Miss Joan Meredyth,” said Slotman.

“Miss Meredyth was a pupil here at the time you mention, three years ago.  It was three years ago that she left.”

“In June?” Slotman asked.

“I think so.  Is it important that you know?”

“Very!”

“I will go and look up my books.”  In a few minutes Miss Skinner was back.

“Miss Meredyth left us in the June of nineteen hundred and eighteen,” she said.

“Suddenly?”

“Somewhat—­yes, suddenly.  Her father was dead; she was leaving us to go to Australia.”

“So that was the story,” Slotman thought, “to go to Australia.”

“During the time she was here, may I ask, did she have any visitors?  Did, for instance, a Mr. Hugh Alston call on her?”

“Mr. Alston, I remember the name.  Certainly he called here, but not to see Miss Meredyth.  He came to see Miss Marjorie Linden, who was, I fancy, distantly related to him.  I am not sure, Mr. Alston certainly called several times.”

“And saw Miss Meredyth?”

“I think not.  I have no reason to believe that he did.  Miss Linden and Miss Meredyth were close friends, and of course Miss Linden may have introduced him.  It is quite possible.”

“Thank you!” said Slotman.  He had found out all that he wanted to know, yet not quite.