unknown to me."

"Ah!" exclaimed the patriotic Baron, "that is indeed unfortunate. For
it is well worth a visit." He turned to Philip. "You are pale and
quiet, Poynter," he added kindly. "A day or so more perhaps here where
it is quiet--"

Philip flushed hotly,

"Excellency!" he protested feebly.

The Baron bowed courteously to Diane.

"If I may crave still further hospitality and indulgence," he begged
regretfully. "There is already much excitement at the Sherrill place
owing to the officious act of my man, Themar, and his accident.
Another invalid--my secretary--one flounders in a dragnet of
unfortunate circumstances. And I am sensitive in the disturbance of my
host's guests--"

Diane's eyes as they rested upon Philip were very kind.

"Excellency," she said warmly, "Mr. Poynter's tent lies there among the
trees. I trust he will not hesitate to use it until he is strong
again. Fortunately we are equipped for emergency."

The Baron bowed gratefully.

"You are a young woman of exceeding common sense!" he said with deep
respect.

Philip was very grateful that the Baron had not misunderstood; a breath
might shatter the idyllic crystal into atoms.

Later, when the Baron had departed, Philip flushed suddenly at the ugly
suspicion rising wraithlike in his mind. He was accustomed to the
Baron's subtleties.

"Mr. Poynter!" called Diane.

Mr. Poynter perversely went on whittling out the hollow of his wildwood
pipe.

"Mr. Poynter!"

The bowl, already sufficient for a Titan's smoke, grew a trifle larger
and somewhat irregular. Carving had conceivably injured Mr. Poynter's
hearing, for he kept on whistling.

"Philip!" said Diane and stamped her foot.

"Yes?" replied Philip respectfully, and instantly discarded the Titan's
pipe to listen.

"Why are you so quiet?" flashed Diane.

"Well, for one thing," explained Philip cheerfully, "I'm mighty busy
and for another, I'm thinking."

"Do you withdraw into a sound-proof shell when you think?"

"Mr. Poynter does!" regretted Philip. "_I_ do not."

"I do hope," said the girl demurely, "that you'll be able to hear when
the doctor gets here. He's coming through the trees."

CHAPTER XIV

BY THE BACKWATER POOL

The sun had set with a primrose glory of reflection upon the river and
the ridge. Over there in the west now there was a pale after-glow of
marigold. It streamed across the dark, still waters of the backwater
pool by the river and f