Sir Charles?" she inquired a little pointedly,
coming forward and gently taking the pillow out of Lady Clifford's hand.

"No, nothing at all," the patient replied somewhat fretfully.

"I thought he seemed so--so terribly hot," explained the Frenchwoman
with a note of apology. "I always think when one is ill..."

She left her sentence unfinished while her eyes took a quick survey of
the smooth sheet. Words Sir Charles had spoken a little while ago in
regard to his wife's "fidgeting about his pillow" recurred to Esther.

"Were you looking for something, Lady Clifford?" she asked, cheerfully
bland.

The Frenchwoman shot her a glance, her beautiful eyes wide with
surprised negation.

"_Mais non_," she replied with a graceful shrug. "But why do you ask
that?"

"I beg your pardon," murmured Esther, confused by the other's sweeping
repudiation.

She settled the invalid on his pillow once more, noting the ghost of an
ironical smile that flitted over his features. Between half-shut lids
he watched the two women with an amused appreciation.

"I think, perhaps, it would be as well if you said good-night to him
now, Lady Clifford," hinted Esther tactfully. "In a short time I am
going to begin getting him ready for the night, and I like to have him
absolutely quiet before-hand."

Hoping her suggestion would prove sufficient, she started removing
flowers from the room. When she returned she saw Lady Clifford kiss
the patient's cheek, then straighten up, wrap her neglige closer about
her slender body, and move towards the door.

"_Bon soir, mon cher_," she called softly, kissing her finger-tips to
him, "_dors bien!_"

So charming, so transparently appealing ... yet she had been looking
for something under the pillow, Esther was convinced of it. Sir
Charles, she thought, realised it, too. But what was it she had been
trying to discover? Suddenly she recalled the will that Roger had
taken out of the safe that morning. Ah! Lady Clifford wanted to have
a look at it; she was nervous for some reason. It was like old Sir
Charles to keep his intentions closely guarded.

Several times that evening she noticed that Roger's gaze rested on her
with interest. She was feminine enough to wonder if he thought she
looked nice in the little wine-red frock she had put on. It was such a
relief to get out of her stiff uniform that she always managed to
change for dinner when there was sufficient time.

As a matter of fact,