"Where's your mother, Nora?" he asked, as Helen took Philippa's place at the head of the table.
"She wants some coffee and toast sent up to her room." Nora explained. "The wind made her giddy."
Sir Henry breakfasted in silence, rang the bell, and ordered his car.
"You going away again, Daddy? " Nora asked.
"I am going to London this morning," he replied, a little absently.
"To London?" Helen repeated. "Does Philippa know?"
"I haven't told her yet."
Helen turned towards Nora.
"I wish you'd run up and see if your mother wants any more coffee, there's a dear," she suggested.
Nora acquiesced at once. As soon as she had left the room, Helen leaned over and laid her hand upon Sir Henry's arm.
"Don't go to London, Henry," she begged.
"But my dear Helen, I must," he replied, a little curtly.
"I wouldn't if I were you," she persisted. "You know, you've tried Philippa very high lately, and she is in an extremely emotional state. She is all worked up about last night, and I wouldn't leave her alone if I were you."
Sir Henry's blue eyes seemed suddenly like points of steel as he leaned towards her.
"You think that she is in love with that fellow Lessingham?" he asked bluntly.
"No, I don't," Helen replied, "but I think she is more furious with you than you believe. For months you have acted - well, how shall I say?"
"Oh, like a coward, if you like, or a fool. Go on."
"She has asked for explanations to which she is perfectly entitled,"
Helen continued, "and you have given her none. You have treated her like something between a doll and a child. Philippa is as good and sweet as any woman who ever lived, but hasn't it ever occurred to you that women are rather mysterious beings? They may sometimes do, out of a furious sense of being wrongly treated, out of a sort of aggravated pique, what they would never do for any other reason. If you must go, come back to-night, Henry. Come back, and if you are obstinate, and won't tell Philippa all that she has a right to know, tell her about that luncheon in town."
Sir Henry frowned.
"It's all very well, you know, Helen," he said, "but a woman ought to trust her husband."
"I am your friend, remember," Helen replied, "and upon my word, I couldn't trust and believe even in Dick, if he behaved as you have done for the last twelve months."
Sir Henry made a grimace.
"Well, that settles it, I suppose, then," he observed. "I'll have one more try and see what I can do with Philippa. Perhaps a hint of what's going on may satisfy her."
He climbed the stairs, meeting Nora on her way down, and knocked at his wife's door. There was no reply. He tried the handle and found the door locked.
"Are you there, Philippa?" he asked.
"Yes!" she replied coldly.
"I am going to London this morning. Can I have a few words with you first?"
"No!"
Sir Henry was a little taken aback.
"Don't be silly, Philippa," he persisted. "I may be away for four or five days."
There was no answer. Sir Henry suddenly remembered another entrance from a newly added bathroom. He availed himself of it and found Philippa seated in an easy-chair, calmly progressing with her breakfast. She raised her eyebrows at his entrance.
"These are my apartments," she reminded him.
"Don't be a little fool," he exclaimed impatiently.
Philippa deliberately buttered herself a piece of toast, picked up her book, and became at once immersed in it.
"You don't wish to talk to me, then?" he demanded.
"I do not," she agreed. "You have had all the opportunities which any man should need, of explaining certain matters to me. My curiosity in them has ended; also my interest - in you. You say you are going to London. Very well. Pray do not hurry home on my account."
Sir Henry, as he turned to leave the room, made the common mistake of a man arguing with a woman - he attempted to have the last word.
"Perhaps I am better out of the way, eh?"
"Perhaps so," Philippa assented sweetly.
