Shelton's attention had been caught unaccountably by the mention of the diamond ring.
"You stimulate my curiosity," said he, deliberately sitting down again. "The young person must have felt your kindness very sensibly to have offered such a costly reward as a diamond ring."
"Aye, she was in sore trouble, sir, that I believe. But now I bethink me," said the good creature, stopping short, "she charged me if any one came here inquiring for her to say she had not been here, and here I am blabbing away at this thoughtless rate."
"But you see I am not inquiring for her," said the visitor briskly. "I am a perfect stranger in these parts, and I am not looking for anyone, so there is no harm done in relating this interesting story to me."
"Why, that is very true, sir," said she, and thereupon followed a minute and detailed account of the visit of Lily Lawrence, and the disguise she had furnished her. Mr. Shelton listened to the story with very close attention.
"How long ago has it been since this happened?" he inquired when she had finished her relation.
"Several weeks, sir. Stay, let me see—I was so excited by it that I put down the date in my little memorandum book," she said, as she began to fumble in her pocket. Presently she produced the book in question, and turning a leaf announced triumphantly, "it was fully two months ago, sir. It was August—the 21st of August."
"The very day that Lily Lawrence appeared to her friends," thought the detective, with a start. "Can there be any connection between the two?"
"She was young and beautiful, you say?" asked he.
"Aye, she was, sir. Not more than seventeen or eighteen, and beautiful as a white lily, sir. She put me in mind of that flower, she was so delicate and pale, sir—not a tint of color in her poor lips and cheeks. Her hair was pale golden too, sir, falling down upon her shoulders, and her eyes of a beautiful deep blue."