— X —MRS. THURSTON PRACTISES A LOSING HAZARD
That was a curious day at Glynde. To use a colloquialism, everything was at sixes and sevens. When Mrs. Thurston made inquiries for her husband, nobody seemed to know where he was. Apparently he was neither in the house nor about the premises. She sought him in vain in the stables; she searched for him equally without result all over the grounds. All that she could learn was that he had been talking to Miss Owen in the garden, and had then walked off, not a soul knew where. It being within the range of possibility that since Miss Owen was the last person he had spoken to that young lady might have some notion of his whereabouts, on her return to the house Mrs. Thurston asked where she was. Miss Owen, she was told, was up in her bedroom with her
