"
Sir Henry looked thoughtful, and studied for a moment the toe of a
remarkably unprepossessing looking shoe.
"You're so keen about that sort of thing," he said, "what about
Lessingham? He is not soldiering or anything, is he?"
"I have no idea," Philippa replied. "He walks with a slight limp
and admits that he is here as a convalescent, but he hasn't told us
very much about himself."
"I wonder you haven't tackled him," Sir Henry continued. "You're
such an ardent recruiter, you ought to make sure that he is doing
his bit of butchery."
Philippa looked up at her husband for a moment and back at her work.
"Mr. Lessingham," she said, "is a very delightful friend, whose stay
here every one is enjoying very much, but he is a comparative
stranger. I feel no responsibility as to his actions."
"And you do as to mine?"
"Naturally."
Sir Henry's head was resting on his hand, his elbow on the back of
the lounge. He seemed to be listening to the voices in the dining
room beyond.
"Hm!" he observed. "Has he been here often while I've been away?"
"As often as he chose," Philippa replied. "He has become very popular
in the neighbourhood already, and he is an exceedingly welcome guest
here at any time."
"Takes advantage of your hospitality pretty often, doesn't he?"
"He is here most days. We are always rather disappointed when he
doesn't come.
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