‘You can bear it in mind. Had I known that you would be finished to-day, I should have arranged for our harvest-home gathering to take place this evening. I am sure that would have gratified Miss Heathcote and my son.’ Another half-nod, and Caleb moved away. The gong sounded. Mr Hadleigh gave his arm to Madge, and led her towards the house. As they entered the hall, they were met by the butler. ‘Do you know where Mr Philip is, sir?’ asked the man nervously. ‘Dinner is quite ready, and he is not in the house; and nobody has seen him since he started for town this morning.’ The butler’s anxiety was equally divided between the danger of having the dinner spoiled and the question as to what had become of Philip. ‘Have you sent to his room?’ ‘I have been there myself, sir. His things are all lying ready for him; but he is nowhere about.’ Mr Hadleigh frowned. ‘This is very annoying. I told him he should not go to town to-day. He has missed his train, I suppose. Give him a quarter of an hour, Terry, and then serve dinner.... Excuse me, Miss Heathcote, one moment.’ He beckoned to a footman, who followed him into a small sideroom. ‘Send Cone to the station,’ he said in a low voice; ‘and bid him inquire if there has been an accident on the line.’ CHAPTER XV.—THE BANQUET WAITS. The explanation that Philip, having important business in town, had no doubt been detained so long as to have missed his train, satisfied all the guests except one. She, however, maintained as calm a demeanour as Mr Hadleigh himself; and he regarded her at times with a curiously thoughtful expression. ‘How brave she is,’ was his thought. ‘Can she have misgivings and he so firm?’ Madge had misgivings; for Philip had told her that he had only to put his seal on the despatch-box containing the important papers he was to carry with him to Uncle Shield, and that he expected to return early enough to call at Willowmere before going home. This, she had suggested, would be waste of time, for she would be busy with her elaborate toilet, and unable to see him. They both enjoyed the fun of the idea that she should be so long engaged in dressing for this important occasion as to leave no time to see him. ‘Well, I shall see Uncle Dick at anyrate, and of course he will be a first-rate substitute. Indeed, now I think of it, he would be far more interesting than a coquettish young person whose mind is wholly absorbed in the arrangement of her bows and laces. He would tell me all about the spread of the foot-and-mouth disease, and that would be useful information at anyrate. Eh?’ They parted, laughing, and thus it was only a half-promise that he should call. She was not surprised, therefore, when he did not appear.