letters, and Philippa is left alone, seated on one of the deep window
sills, a book in her hand, but her eyes are fixed on the distant
horizon, where the sun has suddenly appeared from behind the clouds,
and is shedding a yellow haze over the dripping trees.

So absorbed is she that she does not hear Paul come. He goes up to where
she is, and says, 'What has happened?'

She starts and turning round replies, 'Nothing,' while a tell-tale blush
dyes her cheeks.

'Yes, there is,' he persists, 'why did Jimmy leave so suddenly?'

'He told Lady Dadford that he must get back to the Barracks to-night,'
she replies.

'Do you think I believe that?' says Paul.

'Why shouldn't you?'

'Now child, I know that something is wrong,' and Paul sits down by her
side, 'you told me yesterday you had promised to marry him, why has he
gone away to-day; you have not already disagreed?'

'I don't see that you have any right to question me like this,' she
answers evasively, 'but I suppose I had better tell you that I am not
going to marry Mr Dalrymple,' she says it so firmly that Ponsonby can
see that she is not joking.

'Why not?' he asks.