gone well; he had returned to Weymouth Street,
and was in the act of putting away his apparatus, when the telephone
bell rang.

He was wanted immediately by Lady Scones, in Burnham Crescent, S.W.
Sir Wilford Scones had been one of Doctor Harefield's most lucrative
patients, and naturally Mark felt gratified by the summons. A rapid
examination showed that the patient was seriously ill, and having
telephoned for a trained nurse and written a prescription, Mark left
the house, with a promise to come again during the afternoon.

On his way home after this second visit at about four o'clock, he
walked past the end of Golfney Place, and, a few yards farther on, saw
a motor-car in which was seated Bridget. As he lifted his hat, she
called to the chauffeur to stop, and seeing she was bent on getting
out, Mark could scarcely do less than open the door.

"What a stranger!" she cried, holding out her hand. "Weeks and weeks
since you came to see me! Anyhow, you must come now."

"Sorry," said Mark, "but, upon my word, I haven't much time to
spare----"

"You won't want much," she insisted. "It's no use, Mark! You've got
to be nice and reasonable, and you must just come in."

Taking out her purse, she paid the chauffeur--in gold, as Mark could
not help seeing, and, judging by the expression of the man's face,
adding an unusually liberal tip. Without any more excuses, Mark
accompanied her along the secluded street, and, on reaching Number 5,
Bridget admitted him with her latch-key.

"Where do you think I have been?" she asked, throwing off her cloak as
soon as she entered the sitting-room.

"I don't see how I can guess without something more to guide me," said
Mark, as she went to the looking-glass, drew some monstrous-headed pins
from her hat, and began to arrange her hair, patting it here, pulling
it there, while Mark admired its quantity and colour.

"Oh, how the wind has made my cheeks burn," she cried, pressing her
palms against them. "You know how one pines for woods and pastures at
this time of year!" she continued. "A kind of nostalgia! Directly
after breakfast I sent Miller for a motor-car from the garage in the
next street, and I went to Crowborough."

"Alone?" asked Mark.

"Didn't you see I was alone? That was the idea, you know. I hadn't
been inside the dear old house since father and I left it four years
ago. There was a board up. It was to be let again, so I rang the bell
and went all over it-