CHAPTER XIX
IN WHICH A TRUTH IS HIDDEN
When Walter Fetherston entered the tasteful drawing-room at Hill Street four days later he found Enid alone, seated by the fire.
The dull London light of the autumn afternoon was scarcely sufficient for him to distinguish every object in the apartment, but as he advanced she rose and stood silhouetted against the firelight, a slight, graceful figure, with hand outstretched.
"Both mother and Sir Hugh are out—gone to a matinée at the Garrick," she exclaimed. "I'm so glad you've come in," and she placed a chair for him.
"I have heard that you are leaving for Egypt to-morrow," he said, "and I wished to have a chat with you."
"We go to Italy first, and to Egypt after Christmas," she replied. "Mother has promised to join us in Luxor at the end of January."
"If I were you, Enid," he replied gravely, bending towards her, "I would make some excuse and remain in England."
"Why?" she asked, her eyes opening widely. "I don't understand!"