Hugh waited anxiously in the little lounge which overlooks the courtyard. He went into the garden, and afterwards stood in impatience beneath the archway from which the street is approached. Later, he strolled along the road over which he knew Dorise must come. But all to no avail.
There was no sign of her.
Until six o’clock he waited, when, in blank despair, he mounted beside Mead again and drove back to Shapley Manor. It was curious that Dorise had not come to meet him, but he attributed it to The Sparrow’s inability to convey a message to her. She might have gone out of town with her mother, he thought. Or, perhaps, at the last moment, she had been unable to get away.
On his return to Shapley he found Louise and Mrs. Bond sitting together in the charming, old-world drawing-room. A log fire was burning brightly.
“Did you have a nice run, Hugh?” asked the girl, clasping her hands behind her head and looking up at him as he stood upon the pale-blue hearthrug.
“Quite,” he replied. “I went around Hindhead down to Frensham Ponds and back through Farnham—quite a pleasant run.”
“Mr. Benton has had to go to town,” said his hostess. “Almost as soon as you had gone he was rung up, and he had to get a taxi out from Guildford. He’ll be back to-morrow.”
“Oh, yes—and, by the way, Hugh,” exclaimed Louise, “there was a call for you about a quarter of an hour afterwards. I thought nobody knew you were down here.”
“For me!” gasped Henfrey, instantly alarmed.
“Yes, I answered the ‘phone. It was a girl’s voice!”