CHAPTER XXII.
“Philip!” said Mrs. Ogilvie, as he re-entered pretty Silverbel about four o’clock that afternoon, “I have just had an extraordinary telegram from our lawyer, Mr. Acland.”
Ogilvie looked full at her but did not speak.
“How strangely tired and worn you look,” she replied; “what can be the matter with you? Sometimes, when I think of you and the extraordinary way in which you are acting, I come to the conclusion that your brain cannot be right.”
“You are wrong there, Mildred. There was a time when not only my brain but all my moral qualities were affected, but I believe these things are put right at last.”
He gave a hollow laugh.
“I am enjoying, for the first time for many months, the applause of an approving conscience,” he continued; “that is something to live for.”
“Have you done anything rash, Philip?”
“I have done something which my conscience justifies. Now, what about the telegram from Acland?”