“I did receive that portrait. At the time I did not notice the handwriting. I concluded it had been sent me by Lady Gladys herself.” A sudden light dawned upon Sheila, as she spoke. “It was you who sent it, was it not?”
“Yes, it was I, acting upon instructions.”
“By whom were those instructions given?” asked Sheila eagerly.
The young woman’s manner was more embarrassed than ever. “I am very sorry, but that I must not tell you. Later on, I daresay you will know all.”
“But you have something more to tell me, surely?”
“Yes. That photograph was sent for a purpose. I called the other day, but you were out. It contains a message. Cut it in two, and you will find a letter inside.”
“I have already done so,” was Sheila’s reply. “When my friend Lady Gladys denied having sent it to me, I puzzled and puzzled over it. And then, I think it must have been in a dream, I recalled something that had happened long ago which set me on the right track. I went downstairs in the night, cut the photograph as you suggested, and found the message inside.”
The mysterious visitor looked towards the door, and made a movement of departure.
“My task is done then, and I will detain you no longer.”
But Sheila stayed her impetuously. “But you will not leave me so abruptly. You can understand my terrible anxiety. You will relieve it by telling me what you know.”