mbered her feeling about the publicity of
telegrams. She had so often scolded him for putting "darling" and "best
of love" into messages which all had to be shouted by telephone from the
postal town, into the little village office which, being also the
village grocery store, was a favourite rendezvous at all hours of the
day for village gossips.

It was quite unusually considerate of Ronnie to curb the glowing words
he must have longed to pour forth. The very effort of that curbing, had
reduced him to a somewhat stilted adjective.

So Helen finished her lonely breakfast with thoughts of glad
anticipation. Ronnie's return was drawing so near. Only two more
breakfasts without him. At the third she would be pouring out his
coffee, and hearing him comment on the excellence of Blake's hot
buttered toast!

Then, with a happy heart, she went up to the nursery.

Yet--unconsciously--the pang remained.

CHAPTER VII

A FRIEND IN NEED

As Aubrey Treherne, on his way back from despatching the telegram, stood
in the general entrance hall, fumbling with the latch-key at the door of
his own flat, a tall young man in an ulster dashed up the wide stone
stairs, rapidly read the names on the various brass plates, and arrived
at Aubrey's just as his door had yielded to persuasion and was admitting
him into his own small passage.

"Hullo," said a very British voice. "Do you happen to be Ronald West's
wife's cousin?"

Aubrey turned in the doorway, taking stock of his interlocutor. He saw a
well-knit, youthful figure, a keen resourceful face, and a pair of
exceedingly bright brown eyes, unwavering in the steady penetration of
their regard. Already they had taken him in, from top to toe, and were
looking past him in a rapid investigation of as much of his flat as
could be seen from the doorway.

Aubrey was caught!

He had fully intended muffling his electric bell, and not being at home
to visitors.

But this brisk young man, with an atmosphere about him of always being
ten minutes ahead of time, already had one of his very muddy boots
inside the door, and eagerly awaited the answer to his question; so it
was useless to reply to the latter in German, and to bang the former.

Therefore: "I have that honour," replied Aubrey, with the best grace he
could muster.

"Ah! Well, I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I must have a word with
you; and then I am going round to spend the night with Ronnie at his
hotel."

"Come in