I turned from the inspection of a Bartolozzi on the wall as Mrs. Folliott came into the room. She was a tall woman, with untidy brown hair, and a very winning smile.

“ Dr. Sheppard,” she said hesitatingly.

“That is my name,” I replied. “I must apologize for calling upon you like this, but I wanted some information about a parlour maid previously employed by you, Ursula Bourne.”

With the utterance of the name the smile vanished from her face, and all the cordiality froze out of her manner. She looked uncomfortable and ill at ease.

“Ursula Bourne?” she said hesitatingly.

“Yes,” I said. “Perhaps you don’t remember the name?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I⁠—I remember perfectly.”