"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,
although its inflection betrayed some indignation.
"Will you kindly explain who you are and what you mean by this
extraordinary behaviour?" she demanded.
"It is my earnest intention to do so without delay," he assured her,
his eyes apparently rivetted upon Philippa. "Kindly pardon me."
He held out his arm to stop Helen, who, with her eye upon the bell,
had made a stealthy attempt to slip past him. Her eyes flashed as
she felt his fingers upon her arm.
"How dare you attempt to stop me!" she exclaimed.
"My dear Miss Fairclough," he remonstrated, "in the interests of all
of us, it is better that we should have a few moments of undisturbed
conversation. I am taking it for granted that I have the pleasure
of addressing Miss Fairclough?"
There was something about the man's easy confidence which was, in
its way, impressive yet irritating. Helen appeared bereft of words
and retreated to her place almost mildly.
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