"Asking you to return to London?"
"Exactly. She--wanted to see me."
"About?" John Steele's eyes asked a question; the other nodded. "Of course; not difficult to understand; her desire to hush up the affair; her fear," with a short laugh, "lest the scandal become known. A guest at Strathorn House had been--"
"I don't think it was for--"
"You found out," shortly, "that she, too, had learned--knew--"
"Yes; she made me aware of that at once when she came to see me with Sir Charles. It was she sent your luggage--"
"Sir Charles? Then he, also?--"
"No. You--you need feel no apprehension on that score." A peculiar expression came into the other's glance. "You see his niece told him it was not her secret; asked him to help her, to trust her. Never was a man more perplexed, but he kept the word he gave her on leaving for London, and forebore to question her. Even when they drove through London in that fog--"
"Yes, yes. I know--"
"You? How--?"