Henry's blue eyes seemed suddenly like points of steel as he leaned
towards her.

"You think that she is in love with that fellow Lessingham?" he asked
bluntly.

"No, I don't," Helen replied, "but I think she is more furious with you
than you believe. For months you have acted--well, how shall I say?"

"Oh, like a coward, if you like, or a fool. Go on."

"She has asked for explanations to which she is perfectly entitled,"
Helen continued, "and you have given her none. You have treated her like
something between a doll and a child. Philippa is as good and sweet as
any woman who ever lived, but hasn't it ever occurred to you that women
are rather mysterious beings? They may sometimes do, out of a furious
sense of being wrongly treated, out of a sort of aggravated pique, what
they would never do for any other reason. If you must go, come back
to-night, Henry. Come back, and if you are obstinate, and won't tell
Philippa all that she has a right to know, tell her about that luncheon
in town."

Sir Henry frowned.

"It's all very well, you know, Helen," he said, "but a woman ought to
trust her husband."

"I am your friend, remember," Helen replied, "and upon my word, I
couldn't trust and believe even in Dick, if he behaved as you have done
for the last twelve months."

Sir Henry made a grimace.

"Well, that settles it, I suppose, then," he observed. "I'll have one
more try and see what I can do with Philippa. Perhaps a hint of what's
going on may satisfy her."

He climbed the stairs, meeting Nora on her way down, and knocked at his
wife's door. There was no reply. He tried the handle and found the door
locked.

"Are you there, Philippa?" he asked.

"Yes!" she replied coldly.

"I am going to London this morning. Can I have a few words with you
first?"

"No!"

Sir Henry was a little taken aback.

"Don't be silly, Philippa," he persisted. "I may be away for four or
five days."

There was no answer. Sir Henry suddenly remembered another entrance
from a newly added bathroom. He availed himself of it and found Philippa
seated in an easy-chair, calmly progressing with her breakfast. She
raised her eyebrows at his entrance.

"These are my apartments," she reminded him.

"Don't be a little fool," he exclaimed impatiently.

Philippa deliberately buttered herself a piece of toast, picked up her
book, and became at once immersed in it.

"You don't wish to talk to me, then?" he demanded.

"I do not," she ag