"It's Roger," Beverley thought. "He's ringing for Johnson—perhaps to ask more questions!"

"I must speak to my husband," she said to Miss Blackburne. "The pearls are in that case. There are two hundred and fifty. About thirty came unstrung. You'll see for yourself how they ought to be graduated. I'll be with you again in a few minutes."

She flew to the hall, hoping to intercept Johnson before he could reach Roger's room. But the man was not on his way there. It was the sound of the door-bell she had heard. Johnson was in the act of admitting a girl in a black chiffon cloak lined with blue. A large frilled hood pulled over the wearer's eyes hid the profile from Beverley. The girl turned; it was Clo.

"I'll go with you to your room," Beverley said, controlling her voice for the benefit of Johnson, and trying not to show how frantic was her haste. It was only when she had noiselessly closed the door of the big, bare room, that she dared let herself go.

"What's happened?" she implored. "Why are you dressed like this? Of course you haven't got the papers?"

"I dressed like this to make a get-away," said Clo. "I stole the cloak. I'll tell you everything by and by. But first, you must find out for yourself whether I've got the papers. I've got something—something in a thick envelope. That's all I know."

She threw off the cloak of the girl at the Dietz, and unpinned the pocket which held the precious package—the pocket which, thanks to the pin, had guarded its contents through the whole series of her adventures.

Beverley took the large linen envelope, not even thanking Clo. Neither noticed the omission.

"Addressed to Justin O'Reilly!" she exclaimed. "It's the right size. But what makes you think it may have my envelope inside?"

"Because it was carefully hidden in a safe in the wall. I thought of opening it to make sure. There wasn't—enough time."

"I'll open it ... now!" said Beverley. Her words were firm, yet she hesitated, and turning, the envelope over, stared at the five official-looking red seals. What if it should contain legal documents belonging to some client of O'Reilly's?

"Tap—tap!" came at the door.

Beverley laid the envelope on the glass table, where Clo's medicine bottles once had stood. Over the red seals she flung her handkerchief, lest it should be Roger at the door.

Meanwhile, Clo had answered the knock and revealed Johnson.

"Madam, the lady who came with Mr. Sands wishes to see you immediately; it's very urgent," he announced.

"Say I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied. "I can't come just yet."

Johnson departed. "Madam will come in a few minutes," he repeated to Miss Blackburne, who had been anxiously awaiting him at a half-open door. "I think," he added, "she is busy, miss."

"In that case," suggested the pearl-stringer, "perhaps you'd better call Mr. Sands."

"Very well, miss, I'll do so." Johnson turned away, and Miss Blackburne retreated to the boudoir.

But it occurred to Clo that Roger might be summoned if Beverley delayed.

"Something must be worrying Miss Blackburne," she said. "I wonder if it's anything you'd like Mr. Sands to mix up in, or if you'd rather attend to it yourself? You know, we've lots of time before ten o'clock. If the papers are in this envelope, it's all right. If not, there's nothing doing."

Just why Beverley did not want Roger to go to her boudoir she hardly knew, unless she feared that a pearl might be missing, and that Roger would be more vexed than he was already. Whatever the motive in her mind, she felt suddenly impelled to haste. Even with Clo she could not leave the envelope. Wrapping it in the handkerchief to hide the address, she hurried off with it in her hand.

"You sent for me, Miss Blackburne?" she asked, as she threw open the door.

The pearl-stringer stood by the table, looking pale and strange.

"Oh, Mrs. Sands," she exclaimed, "you told me the pearls were in their case, but they're not. I found it empty. You must have laid them somewhere else."

Beverley wondered whether she had become temporarily insane, and had hidden the pearls in a place already forgotten. But in her heart she knew that nothing of the sort had happened.

"No," she said, answering herself as well as Miss Blackburne, "I didn't touch the pearls after I put them away, and brought them in here. Oh, please don't tease me! This is too serious!"

"Tease you!" echoed Miss Blackburne. "Why, Mrs. Sands, I wouldn't do such a thing! I wish to goodness I'd insisted on your staying till I'd opened the case and counted the pearls. I don't think I was ever so foolish before! Now, maybe you'll believe that I've sto——"

"No—no!" exclaimed Beverley, calmed by the other's distress. "Of course I believe nothing so foolish. Even if you—what nonsense to speak of it!—but even if you wanted the pearls, you couldn't hide them. Let me think! Let me go back in my mind over everything that happened. I was in the next room practically all the time when I wasn't here. The door was open between. I could have seen any one who came in. Oh, the pearls can't have been stolen. There's been nobody to steal them."

"What about our little friend, Clo Riley?" Miss Blackburne asked. "Could she possibly know anything? Mightn't she help with some suggestion? I thought hers one of the brightest, quickest minds I ever met. Indeed, I owe my life to its quickness."

Beverley forgot to answer. The pearl-stringer's words had sent her thoughts travelling along a new path. Suddenly she became aware that she had deceived Miss Blackburne and herself. When she made that statement, she had not reflected. Clo's return, in O'Reilly's company, now seemed so long ago that she had not cast her mind back so far in connection with the pearls. She had thought of what she had done since O'Reilly's refusal of her request, and his departure. She had pictured herself as having seen the pearls in their case since then. But she had not done so. She had seen only the closed case, and had naturally taken it for granted that the pearls were in it. As a matter of fact, she had not actually seen them since she herself closed the velvet case. Could Clo possibly have dashed into the boudoir and hidden the pearls?

"I'll speak to Clo," she finally replied, with a dazed look after a silence that puzzled Miss Blackburne.

"Please stay here. I'll be back in three or four minutes, and bring Clo with me, if she's well enough."

Clo, denuded of the stolen cloak, had flung herself upon the bed to rest, and call back the force of her vitality for a later effort. Her nerves were throbbing like hot wires, and she jumped at the opening of the door.

"Oh, I'm glad it's you!" she sighed, at sight of Beverley. "Have you opened the envelope?"

"The envelope!" Beverley repeated. "Oh, Clo, I thought nothing on earth could have put it out of my head for a second. But Miss Blackburne called me to say the pearls have disappeared. I forgot the envelope. I must hurry back. Did you do anything with the pearls, on your way out?"

Clo looked aghast. "Good gracious, no!" she cried. "I went through the kitchen, and down the servants' elevator. Oh, Mrs. Sands—Angel—you don't think——"

"Nonsense! You're as bad as Miss Blackburne!" Beverley cut her short. "I thought that, for some reason, you might have hidden them. Now I know you didn't. Clo, this is the most terrible day—except one—in my life. I must find the pearls or Roger will never forgive me. And only a few minutes ago they were nothing, compared with the papers!"

Clo's wits, drowned in horror for an instant, came to the surface again. "What if O'Reilly took the pearls for revenge!" she blurted out. "Did he know—was he anywhere near them?"

Beverley, who had been standing by the bed, sank down upon it, and stared. "He did know," she said slowly. "And—and he was alone in the room with the pearls for some minutes if I remember rightly. You see, Sister Lake arrived. She was angry about your being out. I tried to soothe her. It was no use. She left, bag and baggage, in injured dignity. O'Reilly was in my boudoir. Oh, Clo, it must be he who took the pearls!"

The girl herself had said it: yet, when the words were repeated by other lips than hers, it gave her a shock. O'Reilly's face rose before her eyes. "I don't believe he did it!" she was surprised to hear her own voice cry out aloud.

"You suggested it yourself!" exclaimed Beverley.

"I know," the girl confessed. "The idea popped into my head. But it can't be true. He's not that sort, whatever else he may be!"

"He went off furious with you, with us both," Beverley said. "It must have been he who stole the pearls. There's a strong motive—something for him to hold over us, and force us to give the papers back."

"If we've got them!" cut in Clo.

Beverley sprang up. "I'm lost in this!" she faltered. "There are too many things against me. I can't cope with them all at once. I must go to the boudoir and get that envelope, whatever happens."

"What shall I do?" asked Clo.

Beverley was already at the door, and had opened it.

"If I don't come back to you in five minutes, it will be a sign I want you to come to me."

When the door had shut behind her Angel, the girl felt she would be thankful for the five minutes' respite. She lay flat and straight as a figure on a marble tomb, yet she could not rest for thinking of O'Reilly. His eyes seemed to be looking into hers. By shutting them, she could not shut him out. When she thought that the five minutes must have passed, she slid wearily off the bed.

"I must go to Angel," she said half aloud. But she had not got to her feet when, without knocking, Beverley flung the door open.

Instantly Clo guessed that some new and worse misfortune had happened.

"This time it's the end. I give up!" Beverley panted. "The envelope has gone with the pearls. I hadn't even opened it. I don't know what was inside."

"Gone! The envelope gone!" gasped the girl. "Gone—from—where?"

"From the table in the boudoir," Beverley answered. "I laid it there when Miss Blackburne told me about the pearls. It was there when I came to you. Miss Blackburne hasn't left the room. She didn't even see the envelope. I've searched everywhere for it—but it's gone."