ses McIntyre."

"Good Lord!" Kent was on his feet, straightening his tie and brushing
his rumpled hair. "Here, wait a minute"--clutching a whisk broom in a
frantic endeavor to remove some of the signs of travel which still clung
to him. But he had only opportunity for one dab at his left shoulder
before Barbara entered the office. All else forgotten, Kent tossed down
the whisk broom and the next instant he had clasped her hand in both of
his, his eyes telling more eloquently than his stumbling words, his joy
at seeing her again.

"This is a business call," she stated demurely, "on you and Mr.
Rochester." Her lovely eyes held a glint of mischief as she mentioned
Kent's partner, then her expression grew serious. "I want legal advice."

"I am afraid you will have to put up with me," Kent moved his chair
closer to the one she had selected by the desk. "Rochester is out of
town."

"What!" Barbara sat bolt upright. "Where--where's he gone?"

"I don't know"--Kent pulled Rochester's letter out of his pocket and
re-read it. "He did not mention where he was going."

Barbara stared at him; she had paled.

"When did Philip leave?"

"Last night, I presume." Kent tipped back his chair and pressed a
buzzer; a second later Sylvester appeared in the doorway.

"Did Mr. Rochester tell you where he was going?" he asked the clerk.

"No, sir. Mr. Rochester stated that you had his address.

"I?" Kent concealed his growing surprise. "Did he leave any message for
me, other than the letter?"

"No, sir.

"At what hour did he leave the office?"

"I can't say, sir; he was still here when I went away at five o'clock.
He gave me a key to the office so that I could get in this morning."
Kent remained silent, and he added, "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, thanks," and the clerk retired.

As the door closed Barbara turned to Kent. "Have you heard about Jimmie
Turnbull?"

Her voice was a bit breathless as she put the question, but Kent,
puzzling over his partner's eccentric conduct, hardly noted her
agitation.

"Yes. I saw the account just now in the morning paper," he answered. "A
shocking affair. Poor Turnbull! He was a good fellow."

"He was!" Barbara spoke with unaccustomed vehemence, and looking at her
Kent saw that her eyes were filled with tears. Impulsively he threw his
arm about her, holding her close.

"My heart's dearest," he murmured fondly. "If there is
anything--anything I can do--"

Barbara straightened up and winked