He turned away and came back towards her. As he passed the lamp, she started. “Why, you're wet,” she exclaimed, “wet through!” “Of course I am,” he admitted, feeling his sleeve, “but to tell you the truth, in the interest of our conversation I had quite forgotten it. Here come our guests, before I have had time to escape. I can hear your friend Lessingham's voice.” CHAPTER XII The three dinner guests entered together, Lessingham in the middle. Sir Henry's presence was obviously a surprise to all of them. “No idea that you were back, sir,” Harrison observed, shaking hands. Sir Henry greeted them all good-humouredly. “I turned up about three quarters of an hour ago,” he explained, “just too late to join you at dinner.” “Bad luck, sir,” Sinclair remarked. “I hope that you had good sport?” “Not so bad,” Sir Henry admitted. “We had to go far enough for it, though. What do you think of that for an October codling?” They all approached the scales and admired the fish. Sir Henry stood with his hands in his pockets, listening to their comments. “You are enjoying your stay here, I hope, Mr. Lessingham?” he enquired. “One could scarcely fail to enjoy even the briefest holiday in so delightfully hospitable a place,” was the somewhat measured reply. “You're by way of being a fisherman yourself, I hear?” Sir Henry continued. “In a very small way,” Lessingham acknowledged. “I have been out once or twice.” “With Ben Oates, eh?” “I believe that was the man's name.” Philippa glanced up from her work with a little exclamation of surprise. “I had no idea of that, Mr. Lessingham. Whatever made you choose Ben Oates? He is a most disgraceful person.” “It was entirely by accident,” Lessingham explained. “I met him on the front. It happened to be a fine morning, and he was rather pressing in his invitation.” “I'm afraid he didn't show you much sport,” Sir Henry observed. “From what Jimmy Dumble's brother told him, he seems to have taken you in entirely the wrong direction, and on the wrong tide.” “We had a small catch,” Lessingham replied. “I really went more for the sail than the sport, so I was not disappointed.” “The coast itself,” Sir Henry remarked, “is rather an interesting one.” “I should imagine so,” Lessingham assented. “Mr. Ben Oates, indeed, told me some wonderful stories about it. He spoke of broad channels down which a dreadnought could approach within a hundred yards of the land.” “He is quite right, too,” his host agreed. “There's a lot of deep water about here. The whole of the coast is very curious in that way. What the--what the dickens is this?” Sir Henry, who had been strolling about the room, picked up a Homburg hat from the far side of a table of curios. Philippa glanced up at his exclamation. “That's Nora's trophy,” she explained. “I told her to take it up to her own room, but she's always wanting to show it to her friends.” “Nora's trophy?” Sir Henry repeated. “Why, it's nothing but an ordinary man's hat.”