him the state of affairs here, and I am sure he will come if he can.
Let us hope their worry about the boy will soon be over. The little
chap has a splendid constitution. I shall be over to-morrow morning.
Don't hesitate to send for me if you want me, and don't go into Francis
Heathcote's room until I have prepared him for your visit--not unless
there is any crisis and you are obliged to do so. But I think he will
be quiet enough. Go to bed, my dear young lady, and get a good rest;
you must need it. And forgive me having detained you for so long."

CHAPTER VII

INDECISION

"When conscience sees clear, conscience need not budge:
But there are times it cannot clearly see
This way or that, and then it strives to stand,
Holding an even balance in its hand."--ALFRED AUSTIN.

Sleep was impossible. All through the long hours of the night Philippa
lay wide awake, every nerve, every faculty of her mind tuned to the
highest point of tension, going over and over the story she had heard.

Her keen sympathy and ready imagination filled in the details which had
been omitted, and she pictured the endless succession of weary days
which lengthened into years--the mother's anguish as hope grew fainter
and was at last extinguished, and, the central figure of the tragedy,
the man who for all the years, day in, day out, had waited. "Just
waited." The very simplicity of the doctor's words had only added to
their pathos.

She thought of her father, and of what his feelings in the matter must
have been. She knew well that to a man of his rigid integrity of mind
and purpose his sister's action must have been beyond all possible
excuse. The mere fact that she had broken her plighted word would have
been hard to condone, for to him the violation of a promise once given
was impossible, and against all the principles which ruled his life.
He would have felt a personal shame that one of his own family should
have been guilty of it, and more especially his dearly loved sister;
and that in addition she should have acted with what could only be
described as utter heartlessness towards the man who had been his
dearest friend must have been a sorrow beyond all words.

That this had been literally so was proved to Philippa by the fact
that, in spite of the intimacy of thought and speech which had existed
between them, he had allowed her to remain in utter ignorance of the
whole affair. She had enjoyed his fullest confi