"That
is Henry! Go out with Mr. Lessingham, Helen," she continued, "and
wait until he is ready. Don't forget that he is an ordinary caller,
and bring him in presently."
Helen nodded understandingly and hurried out.
Philippa moved a few steps towards the other door. In a moment it
was thrown open. Nora appeared, with her arm through her father's.
"I went to meet him, Mummy," she explained. "No uniform--isn't it
a shame!"
Sir Henry patted her cheek and turned to greet his wife. There was
a shadow upon his bronzed, handsome face as he watched her rather
hesitating approach.
"Sorry I couldn't catch your train, Phil," he told her. "I had to
make a call in the city so I came down from Liverpool Street. Any
luck?"
She held his hands, resisting for the moment his proffered embrace.
"Henry," she said earnestly, "do you know I am so much more anxious
to hear your news."
"Mine will keep," he replied. "What about Richard?"
She shook her head.
"I spent the whole of my time making enquiries," she sighed, "and
every one was fruitless. I failed to get the least satisfaction
from any one at the War Office. They know nothing, have heard
nothing."
"I'm ever so sorry to hear it," Sir Henry declared sympathetically.
"You mustn't worry too much, though, dear. Where's Helen?"
"She is in the gun room with a caller.
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