may
have all the most delightful qualities in the world, but he has attached
himself to a country which no English man or woman will be able to
think of without shuddering, for many years to come. You can't dream
of cutting yourself adrift from your friends and your home and your
country! It's too unnatural! I'm not even arguing with you, Philippa.
You couldn't do it! I'm wholly concerned with Mr. Lessingham. I cannot
forget what we owe him. I think it would be hatefully cruel of you to
spoil his life."

Philippa's flashes of seriousness were only momentary. She made a little
grimace. She was once more her natural, irresponsible self.

"You underrate my charm, Helen," she declared. "I really believe that I
could make his life instead of spoiling it."

"And you would pay the price?"

Philippa, slim and elflike in the firelight, rose from her chair. There
was a momentary cruelty in her face.

"I sometimes think," she said calmly, "that I would pay any price in the
world to make Henry understand how I feel. There, now run along, dear.
You're full of good intentions, and don't think it horrid of me, but
nothing that you could say would make any difference."

"You wouldn't do anything rash?" Helen pleaded.

"Well, if I run away with Mr. Lessingham, I certainly can't promise that
I'll send cards out first. Whatever I do, impulse will probably decide."

"Impulse!"

"Why not? I trust mine. Can't you?" Philippa added, with a little shrug
of the shoulders.

"Sometimes," Helen sighed, "they are such wild horses, you know. They
lead one to such terrible places."

"And sometimes," Philippa replied, "they find their way into the heaven
where our soberer thoughts could never take us. Good night, dear!"

CHAPTER XVI

Mr. William Hayter, in the solitude of his chambers at the Milan Court,
was a very altered personage. He extended no welcoming salutation to his
midnight visitor but simply motioned him to a chair.

"Well," he began, "is your task finished that you are in London?"

"My task," Lessingham replied, "might just as well never have been
entered upon. The man you sent me to watch is nothing but an ordinary
sport-loving Englishman."

"Really! You have lived as his neighbour for nearly a month, and that is
your impression of him?"

"It is," Lessingham assented. "He has been away sea-fishing, half the
time, but I have searched his house thoroughly."

"Searched his papers, eh?"

"Every one I could find,