She snatched and thrust it into her pocket; then turned upon Colin a look not to be forgotten. It seemed to be the concentration of hate. "How dare you meddle with letters of mine?" she demanded furiously. "I beg your pardon. I thought it was mine." "And of course you have read it." She could not face those quiet eyes. "You do not really think so. I saw the signature, and that it was to you." "Nothing more?" "Is not that a needless question?" She turned away, and said passionately, "I might be left in peace this one half-hour!" Without another word he went, followed by Phyllys, who, in the passage, could not resist a glance of sympathy. He said in an undertone, "Please forget. She means nothing." "I suppose she can't help it." "There's a good deal of nervous excitement," he said evasively. "Do you think it is—perhaps—her head?" "Giles and I have long thought so. People are apt in such cases, as you know, to turn against those who are nearest. This is between ourselves." Phyllys, as she moved away, wished that she could have believed the same. CHAPTER XXXI GILES AND HIS HOPES THE dinner, kept up to the mark by Mr. Dugdale, went off as small dinners commonly do. Mrs. Keith was well-dressed, but she could not have been complimented on her looks. Her face was pale with a spotted pallor, drawn, and lined. Colin noted her appearance as unusual. His eyes travelled often in her direction, and his gaze showed only concern; but the concern terrified her. Giles observed no difference, for his mind was occupied elsewhere. Since the first morning he had been much with Phyllys, yet he could not flatter himself with having made great way. For Colin's sake, as well as his own, now that he had gathered the other's supposed quest to be hopeless, he would fain have brought matters to a point. Phyllys, however, was in an "elusive" mood; entirely charming, but by no means to be promptly won. She held him at bay and fascinated him, at one and the same time. Colin's return was unexpected. He had meant to stay in the north longer. The avowed cause, something to do with modelling, did not satisfy Giles, who suspected Phyllys to be the true reason. He seemed to be in good spirits, but looked ill, as always after travelling. Phyllys ascribed his looks to his mother's reception, which reception now held in her mind a new and sinister meaning. That midnight suspicion haunted her. Small-talk had not been included in Giles' composition; and the Vicar did not love chit-chat; while the Doctor was uncomfortably conscious of his hostess' dislike. But Mr. Dugdale kept the ball going. Not long after Mrs. Keith and Phyllys left the table, they were joined by Colin; and when he appeared, the elder lady walked off, leaving him alone with the girl—an unusual move on her part, but she could not longer face his scrutiny. "Have you come straight from Scotland?" Phyllys asked. "You look awfully tired." "Dining-room atmosphere. No—I slept at York."