Adair. She longed for an answer, and of course for that
particular answer which would convict Ethne Eustace of duplicity. Her
interest grew into an excitement when she saw Durrance, tired of
waiting, follow upon Ethne's steps. But what came after was to interest
her still more.

Durrance reappeared, to her surprise alone, and came straight to the
house, up the terrace, into the drawing-room.

"Have you seen Ethne?" he asked.

"Is she not in the little garden by the water?" Mrs. Adair asked.

"No. I went into it and called to her. It was empty."

"Indeed?" said Mrs. Adair. "Then I don't know where she is. Are you
going?"

"Yes, home."

Mrs. Adair made no effort to detain him at that moment.

"Perhaps you will come in and dine to-night. Eight o'clock."

"Thanks, very much. I shall be pleased," said Durrance, but he did not
immediately go. He stood by the window idly swinging to and fro the
tassel of the blind.

"I did not know until to-day that it was your plan that I should come
home and Ethne stay with you until I found out whether a cure was likely
or possible. It was very kind of you, Mrs. Adair, and I am grateful."

"It was a natural plan to propose as soon as I heard of your ill-luck."

"And when was that?" he asked unconcernedly. "The day after Calder's
telegram reached her from Wadi Halfa, I suppose."

Mrs. Adair was not deceived by his attitude of carelessness. She
realised that his expression of gratitude had deliberately led up to
this question.

"Oh, so you knew of that telegram," she said. "I thought you did not."
For Ethne had asked her not to mention it on the very day when Durrance
returned to England.

"Of course I knew of it," he returned, and without waiting any longer
for an answer he went out on to the terrace.

Mrs. Adair dismissed for the moment the mystery of the telegram. She was
occupied by her conjecture that in the little garden by the water's edge
Durrance had stood and called aloud for Ethne, while within twelve yards
of him, perhaps actually within his reach, she and some one else had
kept very still and had given no answer. Her conjecture was soon proved
true. She saw Ethne and her companion come out again on to the open
lawn. Was it Feversham? She must have an answer to that question. She
saw them descend the bank towards the boat, and, stepping from her
window, ran.

Thus it happened that as Willoughby rose from loosening the painter, he
saw Mrs. Adair's disappointed