Fanks looked reflectively at the picture. It was that of a girl just budding into womanhood, with a delicate face, and rather sad eyes. The name of the artist was not printed at the foot, as is usual, nor was the address of the studio inscribed thereon. Nevertheless, on the back of the photograph the detective found writing which startled him.
"Garth!" he cried eagerly, "give me that envelope. Ah, I thought so."
"What is the matter?" asked Garth, astonished at the excitement of the usually calm Fanks.
"Look at the envelope; look at the back of the photograph; compare the handwritings."
Fanks placed them side by side on the desk. On the envelope was the address of Sir Gregory in Half-Moon Street; on the photograph, an inscription which ran as follows: "Emma. Born 1874; died 1893." The handwriting on both was one and the same. Garth drew a long breath.
"By George, that is strange," he said, after a pause, "the woman who wrote the one, wrote the other; there isn't a shadow of difference between the writings. You are right, Fanks, the penmanship is that of an elderly woman; no doubt the mother of the girl."
"That is my opinion also; but the girl, Garth? Who is she?"
The lawyer reflected and frowned. "I did hear that my cousin was entangled with some woman," he said with reluctance. "But that was many months ago. In fact, there was a rumour of a marriage. I asked Gregory if this was so, and received a prompt denial. But for all that," added Garth, looking at the portrait, "there might have been some truth in the rumours. I never saw this lady; but my cousin could be very secretive when he liked. Seventy-four to ninety-three; just nineteen. Poor creature! Whosoever she was, I am certain that he treated her badly."
"You may judge him too harshly."
Garth shook his head with a gloomy air. "I knew my cousin well," he said. "He would have killed any woman with unkindness."