“Nothing shall,” he promised her. “I think you know, do you not, that, whatever might happen to me, I should find some means to protect you.” For the second time she felt a curious lack of will to fittingly reprove his boldness. She had even to struggle to keep her tone as careless as her words. “You really are a delightful person!” she exclaimed. “How long is it since you descended from the clouds?” “Sometimes I think that I am there still,” he answered, “but I have known you about seventy-six hours.” “What precision?” she laughed. “It's a national characteristic, isn't it? Captain Griffiths,” she continued, as she observed his approach, “if you really must go, please take Mr. Lessingham with you. He is making fun of me. I don't allow even Dick's friends to do that.” Lessingham's disclaimer was in quite the correct vein. “You must both come again very soon,” their hostess concluded, as she shook hands. “I enjoyed our bridge immensely.” The two men were already on their way to the door when a sudden idea seemed to occur to Captain Griffiths. He turned back. “By-the-by, Lady Cranston,” he asked, “have you heard anything from your brother?” Philippa shook her head sadly. Helen, who, unlike her friend, had not had the advantage of a distinguished career upon the amateur dramatic stage, turned away and held a handkerchief to her eyes. “Not a word,” was Philippa's sorrowful reply. Captain Griffiths offered a clumsy expression of his sympathy. “Bad luck!” he said. “I'm so sorry, Lady Cranston. Good night once more.” This time their departure was uninterrupted. Helen removed her handkerchief from her eyes, and Philippa made a little grimace at the closed door. “Do you believe,” Helen asked seriously, “that Captain Griffiths has any suspicions?” Philippa shrugged her shoulders. “If he has, who cares?” she replied, a little defiantly. “The very idea of a duel of wits between those two men is laughable.” “Perhaps so,” Helen agreed, with a shade of doubt in her tone. CHAPTER X