demanded almost angrily.

Major Colquhoun related the little he knew, and Mr. Frayling plumped down
into a chair to listen, and bounced up again, when all was said, to speak.

"Let me send for her mother," he began, showing at once where, in an
emergency, he felt that his strength lay. "No, though, I'd better go
myself and prepare her," he added on second thought. "We mustn't make a
fuss--with all the servants about too. They would talk." And then he
fussed off himself, with agitation evident in every step.

Something like a smile disturbed Major Colquhoun's calm countenance for a
moment, and then he stood, twisting the ends of his fair moustache slowly
with his left hand, and gazing into the fire, which shone reflected in his
steely blue eyes, making them glitter like pale sapphires, coldly, while
he waited.

Mr. Frayling returned with his wife almost immediately. The latter had had
her handkerchief in her hand all day, but she put it in her pocket now.

Major Colquhoun had to repeat his story.

"Did you look for her in the waiting rooms?" Mrs. Frayling asked.

"No."

"She may be there waiting for you at this very moment."

It was a practical suggestion.