Lessingham drove the two women to their
hotel in Dover Street.
"We've had a most delightful evening," Philippa assured him, as they
said good night. "You are coming round to see us in the morning,
aren't you?"
"If I may," Lessingham assented.
Helen found her way into Philippa's room, later on that night. She
had nerved herself for a very thankless task.
"May I sit down for a few moments?" she asked, a little nervously.
"Your fire is so much better than mine."
Philippa glanced at her friend through the looking-glass before
which she was brushing her hair, and made a little grimace. She
felt a forewarning of what was coming.
"Of course, dear," she replied. "Have you enjoyed your evening?"
"Very much, in a way," was the somewhat hesitating reply. "Of
course, nothing really counts until Dick comes back, but it is nice
to talk with some one who knows him."
"Agreeable conversation," Philippa remarked didactically, "is one
of the greatest pleasures in life."
"You find Mr. Lessingham very interesting, don't you?" Helen asked.
Philippa finished arranging her hair to her satisfaction and drew
up an easy-chair opposite her visitor's.
"So you want to talk with me about Mr. Lessingham, do you?"
"I suppose you know that he's in love with you?" Helen began.
"I hope he is a little, my dear," was the smiling reply.
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