uggesting that we may meet Mr. Lessingham?" Helen enquired,
lazily. "I am perfectly certain that he knows nothing of the equipment
of the melodramatic spy. As to Zeppelins, don't you remember he told us
that he hated them and was terrified of bombs."

"My dear," Philippa remonstrated, "Mr. Lessingham does nothing crude."

"And yet,--" Helen began.

"Yet I suppose the man has something at the back of his head," Philippa
interrupted. "Sometimes I think that he has, sometimes I believe that
Richard must have shown him my picture, and he has come over here to see
if I am really like it."

"He does behave rather like that," her companion admitted drily.

Phillipa turned and looked at her.

"Helen," she said severely, "don't be a cat."

"If I were to express my opinion of your behaviour," Helen went on,
picking up a pine cone and examining it, "I might astonish you."

"You have an evil mind," Philippa yawned, producing her cigarette case.
"What you really resent is that Mr. Lessingham sometimes forgets to talk
about Dick."

"The poor man doesn't get much chance," Helen retorted, watching the
blue smoke from her cigarette and leaning back with an air of content.
"Whatever do you and he find to talk about, Philippa?"

"Literature--English and German," Philippa murmured demurely. "Mr.
Lessingham is remarkably well read, and he knows more about our English
poets than any man I have met for years."

"I forgot that you enjoyed that sort of thing."

"Once more, don't be a cat," Philippa enjoined. "If you want me to
confess it, I will own up at once. You know what a simple little thing
I am. I admire Mr. Lessingham exceedingly, and I find him a most
interesting companion."

"You mean," her friend observed drily "the Baron Maderstrom." Philippa
looked around and frowned.

"You are most indiscreet, Helen," she declared. "I have learnt something
of the science of espionage lately, and I can assure you that all spoken
or written words are dangerous. There is a thoroughly British squirrel
in that tree overhead, and I am sure he heard."

"I suppose the sunshine has got into your head," Helen groaned.

"If you mean that I am finding it a relief to talk nonsense, you are
right," Philippa assented. "As a matter of fact, I am feeling most
depressed. Henry telephoned from somewhere or other before breakfast
this morning, to say that he should probably be home to-night or
to-morrow. They must have landed somewhere down the coa