Roy handed her the paper, pointing dumbly.
"My wife!" he whispered. "She'll think I'm— And I don't even know where she is—to contradict it! Have you a telephone here? Could you ring up Lord Eskerley's house in London? He'll know! He knows everything! He knows—"
Lady Hermione laid a cool hand upon his bandaged forehead.
"Don't get flustered!" she said. "Get up, and put on your dressing-gown. I will show you where the telephone is."
Next moment, with Roy swaying on her arm, she was sailing down the passage in the direction of the office in the front hall.
"They're keeping company already! Quick work! Quick work!" commented Master Abercrombie, admiringly.
CHAPTER XXII
THE MILLS OF GOD
"He must have left a will of some kind," said Lord Eskerley.
"He made one before he went to France," I replied; "but that has been invalidated by his marriage. It doesn't really matter; because everything—the baronetcy, Baronrigg, and so on—will pass automatically to the child."