"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, miss," said the old dame with a curtsy. "'Tis kind of you to say that can stand over till Maggie's better. She just dropped off for a bit of sleep, and thought as how she would be safe like, seein' that we don't get no mor'n four or five of them things in a week these days--not but what there's more when the Major's at home; and Mr. Taylor, up to Chancey Hall, he's a wonderful one for them, but he's not at home now--gone for to find lions and tigers in some heathen country, so they tell me. Not but what Maggie she'd 'a' come down if you'd wished, miss. It don' do for to leave the machine by rights. That's against rules, that is; but what's a body to do when she comes over that queer with shootin' pains, an' her head a-whizzin' like Farmer Brown's threshin' engine. I thank you kindly, miss, and good-day to you." Philippa hurried out. She had wasted more than ten minutes over the affair, and Francis would be weary of waiting. "I am so sorry," she cried penitently, "I have been so long, but----" As she was in the act of urging the pony to proceed he put out his hand and stopped her. "Turn round," he said. "We will go home now." She looked at him and saw that his face was white and his mouth drawn and hard. "What is the matter?" she asked anxiously. "Do you feel ill?" "No," he said shortly, "I am not ill; but I do not want to drive any farther." He said no more, and she, greatly wondering, did not like to press him further. She hurried the pony as much as possible along the road they had so lately come. "Had he remembered something?" she asked herself. What had happened in those few minutes? Something must have occurred to account for this sudden change. If he would only speak and tell her! He was sitting with his head sunk on his chest, so that she could not see his face, and he was absolutely silent until after they had turned in at the lodge and were going up the drive. Then he turned to her. "Is Isabella still here?" he asked. "Isabella!" faltered Philippa, taken aback by the sudden question. "Yes, Isabella. Does she still live here?" "Yes; she lives here." Then as they pulled up at the door he added, "Will you fetch her? Will you bring her to me, please? I want to see her." "Certainly she shall come, dear, if you want her." Ford came to the door in answer to the bell, and Francis descended. Philippa was about to follow him, when he stopped her. "Will you go and fetch her? Will you go now?" "Won't you let me stay with you? I will send for her." "No," he interrupted. "Please go and bring her--as quickly as you can." "If you really wish it," she stammered, "I will go." She did not know Francis in this strange mood. "But may I not come and see you safely up-stairs first?" "I wish it. I shall be all right. Please go." He spoke kindly but quite decidedly. Philippa made one more effort.