German prison!"

"We mustn't believe that it's quite so bad as that, dear," Philippa
remonstrated. "What is it, Mills?"

The elderly man-servant who had entered with a tray in his band,
bowed as he arranged it upon a side table.

"I have taken the liberty of bringing in a little fresh tea, your
ladyship," he announced, "and some hot buttered toast. Cook has
sent some of the sandwiches, too, which your ladyship generally
fancies."

"It is very kind of you, Mills," Philippa said, with rather a wan
little smile. "I had some tea at South Lynn, but it was very bad.
You might take my coat, please."

She stood up, and the heavy fur coat slipped easily away from her
slim, elegant little body.

"Shall I light up, your ladyship?" Mills enquired.

"You might light a lamp," Philippa directed, "but don't draw the
blinds until lighting-up time. After the noise of London," she went
on, turning to Helen, "I always think that the faint sound of the
sea is so restful."

The man moved noiselessly about the room and returned once more to
his mistress.