"I saw your little boy going across the field there, about half an hour ago," said Dr. Fraser, looking up at me with eyes of immediate understanding. "The white terrier was with him."
"Towards the cliffs?" I said, feeling glad that Philippa was not there.
"No, to the right—towards the tower." She went to the window. "There was some one with him," she added quickly. "There he is now—that man in a yachting cap, by the tower——"
"I don't see anyone," I said, refixing my eye-glass.
Miss Fraser continued to stare out of the window. "You're short-sighted," she said, without looking at me. "Perhaps if the window were open——"
Before I could help her she had opened it, and the west wind rushed in, with big drops in it.
"I must be blind," I said, "I can see no one."
"Nor can I—now," she said, drawing back from the window.
She sat down at the table as if her knees had given way, and her strong white hand fell slackly on Philippa's purchase, the old aneroid barometer, and rested there. The other girl looked at her anxiously.
"Hold up, Cathie!" she said, as one speaks to a horse when it stumbles.