in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then leaving me? Now, if he had

borrowed my money, or if he had married me and got my money settled on him,

there might be some reason, but Hosmer was very independent about money and

never would look at a shilling of mine. And yet, what could have happened? And

why could he not write? Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I

can’t sleep a wink at night.” She pulled a little handkerchief out

of her muff and began to sob heavily into it.


“I shall glance into the case for you,” said Holmes, rising,

“and I have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the

weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind dwell upon it

further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish from your memory, as he

has done from your life.”


“Then you don’t think I’ll see him again?”


“I fear not.”


“Then what has happened to him?”


“You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate

description of him and any letters of his which you can spare.”


“I advertised for him in last Saturday’s Chronicle,”

said she. “Here is the slip and here are four letters from him.”


“Thank you. And your address?”


“No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell.”


“Mr. Angel’s address you never had, I understand. Where is your

father’s place of business?”


“He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claret importers of

Fenchurch Street.”


“Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You will leave the

papers here, and remember the advice which I have given you. Let the whole

incident be a sealed book, and do not allow it to affect your life.”


“You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be true to

Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back.”


For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there was something noble in

the simple faith of our visitor which compelled our respect. She laid her