her friend's side. Their arms were
intertwined, their cheeks touching. One of those strange, feminine
silences of acute sympathy seemed to hold them for a while under its
thrall. Then, almost at the same moment, a queer awakening came for both
of them. Helen's arm was stiffened. Philippa turned her head, but her
eyes were filled with incredulous fear. A little current of cool air was
blowing through the room. The French windows stood half open, and with
his back to them, a man who had apparently entered the room from the
gardens and passed noiselessly across the soft carpet, was standing
by the door, listening. They heard him turn the key. Then, in a
businesslike manner, he returned to the windows and closed them, the
eyes of the two women following him all the time. Satisfied, apparently,
with his precautions, he turned towards them just as an expression of
indignant enquiry broke from Philippa's lips. Helen sprang to her feet,
and Philippa gripped the sides of her chair. The newcomer advanced a few
steps nearer to them.

CHAPTER III

It seemed to the two women, brief though the period of actual silence
was, that in those few seconds they jointly conceived definite and
lasting impressions of the man who was to become, during the next few
weeks, an object of the deepest concern to both of them. The intruder
was slightly built, of little more than medium height, of dark
complexion, with an almost imperceptible moustache of military pattern,
black hair dishevelled with the wind, and eyes of almost peculiar
brightness. He carried himself with an assurance which was somewhat
remarkable considering the condition of his torn and mud stained
clothes, the very quality of which was almost undistinguishable. They
both, curiously enough, formed the same instinctive conviction that,
notwithstanding his tramplike appearance and his burglarious entrance,
this was not a person to be greatly feared.

The stranger brushed aside Philippa's incoherent exclamation and opened
the conversation with some ceremony.

"Ladies," he began, with a low bow, "in the first place let me offer
my most profound apologies for this unusual form of entrance to your
house."

Philippa rose from her easy-chair and confronted him. The firelight
played upon her red-gold hair, and surprise had driven the weariness
from her face. Against the black oak of the chimneypiece she had almost
the appearance of a framed cameo. Her voice was quite steady, alth