"In some ways he is worse—in some better," replied Helps in a dubious sort of voice. "If I were you I'd come. Miss Valentine—Mrs. Wyndham, I mean."
"Yes, Helps, I'll come; I'll come instantly. Will you fetch a cab for me?"
"There's one waiting at the door, ma'am."
"Very well. I won't even go upstairs. Fetch me my cloak from the stand in the hall, will you? Now I am ready."
The two got into the cab and drove away. No one in the house even knew that they had gone.
When they arrived at Queen's Gate, Helps still took the lead.
"Is my father in the library?" asked the daughter.
"No, Mrs. Wyndham. Mr. Paget has been in his room for the last day or two. I'll take you to him, if you please, at once."
"Thank you, Helps."