“You and I have to go up to a little dinner they are giving to-morrow or the next day.”
“Oh, dear, what an idiot I was!” Philippa exclaimed ruefully. “I imagined—all sorts of things. But, Henry dear,” she went on, “do you know that we have a great surprise for you—here in the house?”
“No surprise, dear,” he assured her, shaking his head. “I knew the very hour that Richard left Wittenberg. And here he is, by Jove!”
Richard and Helen entered together. Philippa could not even wait for the conclusion of the hearty but exceedingly British greeting which passed between the two men.
“Listen to me, both of you!” she cried incoherently. “Helen, you especially! You never heard anything so wonderful in your life! They weren't fishing excursions at all. There weren't any whiting. Henry was laying mines all the time, and he's blown up half the German fleet! It's all in the Times this morning. He's got a D.S.O.—Henry has—and he's a Rear-Admiral! Oh, Helen, I want to cry!”
The two women wandered into a far corner of the room. Richard wrung his brother-in-law's hand.
“Philippa isn't exactly coherent,” he remarked, “but it sounds all right.”
“You see,” Sir Henry explained, “I've been mine laying ever since the war started. I always had ideas of my own about mine fields, as you may remember. I started with Scotland, and then they moved me down here. The Admiralty thought they'd be mighty clever, and they insisted upon my keeping my job secret. It led to a little trouble with Philippa, but I think we are through with all that.—I suppose you know that those two young women have been engaged in a regular conspiracy, Dick?”
“I know a little,” Richard replied gravely, “and I'm sure you will believe that I wouldn't have countenanced it for a moment if I'd had any idea what they were up to.”
“I'm sure you wouldn't,” Sir Henry agreed. “Anyway, it led to no harm.”