Major Reith's ideas as to what to do with a young lady who had fainted were vague. His impulse was to return upstairs and alarm the household; but before he could put his impulse into practice the lady relieved him of his difficulties by sitting up and returning to life.
"Oh, Major Reith, I've hurt my foot."
He thought that he had never seen her looking prettier. He probably never had; that dressing-gown became her.
"I'm very sorry." His tone was gravity itself. "Is it very bad? Let me help you to get up."
He helped her; would have placed her on the chair on which was the cushion and, underneath, the bag, but she managed to make him understand that she preferred another. He was all sympathy.
"Can I do anything for it, or would you rather that I let the people know?"
"Thank you, I would rather that you didn't. It is painful for the moment, but I shall manage; it's the first twinge. Did you hear a strange noise upstairs?"
"I did, and wondered what it was; it was that which brought me down."
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what had brought her down, but he refrained. Where she was concerned he was a man of quick perception. He was already conscious that there was something in the situation which he did not understand, which, possibly, she would rather that he did not understand.
"What did you hear?"