ough
its inflection betrayed some indignation.

"Will you kindly explain who you are and what you mean by this
extraordinary behaviour?" she demanded.

"It is my earnest intention to do so without delay," he assured her, his
eyes apparently rivetted upon Philippa. "Kindly pardon me."

He held out his arm to stop Helen, who, with her eye upon the bell, had
made a stealthy attempt to slip past him. Her eyes flashed as she felt
his fingers upon her arm.

"How dare you attempt to stop me!" she exclaimed.

"My dear Miss Fairclough," he remonstrated, "in the interests of all
of us, it is better that we should have a few moments of undisturbed
conversation. I am taking it for granted that I have the pleasure of
addressing Miss Fairclough?"

There was something about the man's easy confidence which was, in its
way, impressive yet irritating. Helen appeared bereft of words and
retreated to her place almost mildly. Philippa's very delicate eyebrows
were drawn together in a slight frown.

"You are acquainted with our names, then?"

"Perfectly," was the suave reply. "You, I presume, are Lady Cranston? I
may be permitted to add," he went on, looking at her steadfastly, "that
the description from which I recognise you does you less than justice."

"I find that remark, under the circumstances, impertinent," Philippa
told him coldly.

He shrugged his shoulders. There was a slight smile upon his lips and
his eyes twinkled.

"Alas!" he murmured, "for the moment I forgot the somewhat unusual
circumstances of our meeting. Permit me to offer you what I trust you
will accept as the equivalent of a letter of introduction."

"A letter of introduction," Philippa repeated, glancing at his
disordered clothes, "and you come in through the window!"

"Believe me," the intruder assured her, "it was the only way."

"Perhaps you will tell me, then," Philippa demanded, her anger gradually
giving way to bewilderment, "what is wrong with my front door?"

"For all I know, dear lady," the newcomer confessed, "yours may be
an excellent front door. I would ask you, however, to consider my
appearance I have been obliged to conclude the last few miles of my
journey in somewhat ignominious fashion. My clothes--they were quite
nice clothes, too, when I started," he added, looking down at himself
ruefully--"have suffered. And, as you perceive, I have lost my hat."

"Your hat?" Helen exclaimed, with a sudden glance at Nora's trophy.

"Precisely