There was no suggestion required this time. The one possible question was: “Who sent you?”
Maria replied, after first reserving a condition: “You won’t tell upon me, miss?”
I promised not to tell. Selina suddenly left off playing.
“Well,” I repeated, “who sent you?”
“Miss Helena.”
Selina looked round at me. Her little eyes seemed to have suddenly become big, they stared me so strangely in the face. I don’t know whether she was in a state of fright or of wonder. As for myself, I simply lost the use of my tongue. Maria, having no more questions to answer, discreetly left us together.
Why should Helena write to Philip at all—and especially without mentioning it to me? Here was a riddle which was more than I could guess. I asked Selina to help me. She might at least have tried, I thought; but she looked uneasy, and made excuses.
I said: “Suppose I go to Helena, and ask her why she wrote to Philip?” And Selina said: “Suppose you do, dear.”
I rang for Maria once more: “Do you know where my sister is?”
“Just gone out, miss.”