"By the way," said Boots abruptly, "what's the matter with Gerald? He came in before noon looking very seedy—" Selwyn glanced up quietly.
"Wasn't he at the office?" asked Eileen anxiously.
"Oh, yes," replied Selwyn; "he felt a trifle under the weather, so I sent him home."
"Is it the grippe?"
"N-no, I believe not—"
"Do you think he had better have a doctor? Where is he?"
"He was here," observed Drina composedly, "and father was angry with him."
"What?" exclaimed Eileen. "When?"
"This morning, before father went downtown."
Both Selwyn and Lansing cut in coolly, dismissing the matter with a careless word or two; and coffee was served—cambric tea in Drina's case.