This was 157 and the house was empty.  After a moment’s hesitation he rang the bell at the adjoining door.  A woman who had been watching him from the front room, answered the summons at once.

“Can you tell me,” he enquired, “what has become of the lady who used to live at 157—­Mrs. Willet?”

“She’s moved,” was the uncompromising reply.

“Do you know where to?” Quest asked eagerly.

“West Kensington—­Number 17 Princes’ Court Road.  There was a young lady here yesterday afternoon enquiring for her.”

Quest raised his hat.  It was a relief, at any rate, to have news of Lenora.

“I am very much obliged to you, madam.”

“You’re welcome!” was the terse reply.

Quest gave the new address to the taxi-driver and was scarcely able to restrain his impatience during the long drive.  They pulled up at last before a somewhat dingy-looking house.  He rang the bell, which was answered by a trim-looking little maid-servant.

“Is Mrs. Willet in?” he enquired.

The maid-servant stood on one side to let him pass.  Almost at the same moment, the door of the front room opened and a pleasant-looking elderly lady appeared.

“I am Mrs. Willet,” she announced.

“I am Mr. Quest,” the criminologist told her quickly.  “You may have heard your niece, Lenora, speak of me.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me what has become of her?” Mrs. Willet observed.

“Isn’t she here?”

Mrs. Willet shook her head.

“I had a telegram from her from New York to say that she was coming, but I’ve seen nothing of her as yet.”

“You’ve changed your address, you know,” Quest reminded her, after a moment’s reflection.

“I wrote and told her,” Mrs. Willet began.  “After all, though,” she went on thoughtfully, “I am not sure whether she could have had the letter.  But if she went up to Hampstead, any one would tell her where I had moved to.  There’s no secret about me.”

“Lenora did go up to 157 Elsmere Road yesterday,” Quest told her.  “They gave her your address here, as they have just given it to me.”

“Then what’s become of the child?” Mrs. Willet demanded.

Quest, whose brain was working quickly, scribbled upon one of his cards the address of the hotel where he had taken rooms, and passed it over.

“Why Lenora didn’t come on to you here I can’t imagine,” he said.  “However, I’ll go back to the hotel where she was to spend the night after she arrived.  She may have gone back there.  That’s my address, Mrs. Willet.  If you hear anything, I wish you’d let me know.  Lenora’s quite a particular friend of mine and I am a little anxious.”

Mrs. Willet smiled knowingly.

“I’ll let you know certainly, sir,” she promised, “and glad I shall be to hear of Lenora’s being comfortably settled, after that first unfortunate affair of hers.  You’ll excuse me a moment.  I’m a little slower in my wits than you.  Did you say that Lenora was at Hampstead yesterday afternoon and they told her my address?”