"I found your note," he said, as he grasped his host's hand, "and came straight on. I have only just got back. What is the matter? Tell me at once." He was a self-controlled man, but his agitation was evident. "Daisy?" he added hastily. "Yes," replied the father. The two were alone in his study. "Poor Daisy!" And then he told the story. Keir listened, though not altogether in silence, for broken exclamations, which he seemed unable to repress, broke out from him more than once. "Impossible----inconceivable!" he muttered, "Lingard, of all men, to behave like a----" he stopped short, at a loss for a comparison. "Then you can throw no light upon it--none whatever?" said Mr. Trevannion. "We had hoped--foolishly, perhaps--I had somehow hoped that you might have helped us. You know him well, you see, you have been so much together, your acquaintance is of old date, and you must understand any peculiarities of his character." His tone still sounded as if he could not bring himself finally to accept the position. Keir was inexpressibly sorry for him. "I know of none," he said. "Frankly, I know of nothing about him that is not estimable. And, as you say, we have been much and most intimately associated. We have travelled together half over the world, we have been dependent on each other for months at a time, and the more I have seen of him the more I have admired and--yes--loved him. If I had to pick a fault in him I would say it is a curious spice of obstinacy--I have seen it very strongly now and then. Once," and his face grew grave, "once, we nearly quarrelled because he would not give in on a certain point. It was in Siberia, not long ago," and here Philip gave a sort of shiver, "it was very horrible--no need to go into details. He, Arthur, got it into his head that a particular course of action was called for, and there was no moving him. However it ended all right. I had almost forgotten it. But he was determined." Mr. Trevannion listened, but vaguely. Keir's remarks scarcely seemed to the point. "Obstinate!" he repeated. "Yes, but that doesn't explain things. There was no question of giving in. They had had no quarrel. Daisy was perfectly happy. The only thing she can say on looking back over the last week or two closely, is that Arthur had seemed depressed now and then, and when she taxed him with it he evaded a reply. You don't think, Philip, that there is anything of that kind--melancholia, you know--in his family?" "Bless you, no, my dear sir. He comes of the healthiest stock possible. People one knows all about for generations. No, no, it's nothing of that kind," Keir replied. "And--what man ever had such happy prospects?"