? The one face bending over his,
her eyes wet with tears, her whispers an incoherent stream of broken
words. Then the warmth seemed to come back to his veins. He sat up and
found himself on the couch in the library, the rain dripping from him in
little pools, and he knew that he had succeeded. He had not fainted.

"I am all right," he repeated. "What a mess I am making!"

The voices around him were still a little tangled, but the hand which
held a steaming tumbler to his lips was Philippa's.

"Drink it all," she begged.

He felt the tears come into his eyes, felt the warm blood streaming
through his body, felt a little wet patch at the back of the calf of his
leg, and the hand which set down the empty tumbler was almost steady.

"There's a hot bath ready," Philippa told him; "some dry clothes, and a
bedroom with a fire in. Do let Mills show you the way."

He rose at once, prepared to follow her. His feet were not quite so
steady as he would have wished, but he made a very presentable show.
Mills, with a little apology, held out his arm. Philippa walked by his
other side.

"As soon as you have finished your bath and got into some dry clothes,"
Philippa whispered, "please ring, or send Mills to let us know."

He was even able to smile at her.

"I am quite all right," he assured her once more.

CHAPTER XXV

Philippa, unusually early on the following morning, glanced at the empty
breakfast table with a little air of disappointment, and rang the bell.

"Mills," she enquired, "is no one down?"

"Sir Henry is, I believe, on the beach, your ladyship," the man
answered, "and Miss Helen and Miss Nora are with him."

"And Mr. Lessingham?"

"Mr. Lessingham, your ladyship," Mills continued, looking carefully
behind him as though to be sure that the door was closed, "has
disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Philippa repeated. "What do you mean, Mills?"

"I left Mr. Lessingham last night, your ladyship," Mills explained,
"in a suit of the master's clothes and apparently preparing for bed--I
should say this morning, as it was probably about two o'clock. I called
him at half past eight, as desired, and found the room empty. The bed
had not been slept in."

"Was there no note or message?" Philippa asked incredulously.

"Nothing, your ladyship. One of the maid servants believes that she
heard the front door open at five o'clock this morning."

"Ring up the hotel," Philippa instructed, "and see if he is there."

Mi