"I think," she said at length, "that you would be very ill-advised if you went to town and left her here—thrown entirely upon her own resources."
"May I ask if you are still referring to my secretary?" he said.
She bent her head. "I have never approved of her being upon such intimate terms with him. She treats him as if—as if—"
"As if he were her brother," said Mordaunt quietly. "I do the same. I have many friends, but he is the one man in the world who possesses my entire confidence. For that reason I foster their friendship, for I know it to be a good thing. For that reason, if I were dying, I would confidently leave her in his care."
"My dear Trevor, the man has bewitched you!" protested Aunt Philippa.
His eyes fell away from her at last, and she was conscious of distinct relief, mingled with a most unwonted tinge of humiliation.
"I am obliged to you," he said formally, "for taking the trouble to warn me. But you need never do so again. Believe me, I am not blind; and Chris is safe in my care."
He rose with the words, and went to the sideboard for his breakfast. Here he remained for some time with his back turned, but when he finally came back to the table there was no trace of even suppressed agitation about him.
He sat down and began to eat with a perfectly normal demeanour. The silence, however, remained unbroken until Noel burst tempestuously into the room. No silence ever outlasted his appearance.
He flung his arms round his brother-in-law and embraced him warmly, with a friendly, "Hullo, you greedy beggar! Hope you haven't gobbled up everything! I'm confoundedly hungry. Morning, Aunt Philippa! I suppose you fed long ago? It's a disgusting habit, isn't it? But one we can't dispense with at present. Where's Chris?"