"No," he replies, "I am going to Mrs. Roche, at Copthorne."
Then he dashes out of the house, and reaches Trebovir Road just as Erminie and Nelson are at breakfast.
"We could not think what had become of you," cries Mrs. Lane, running out to meet him. "Why did you go out, and where have you been?"
Then she sees how pale he is, and the questions die on her lips.
"Come in," she says gently. "I have got some hot coffee for you, and your favourite dish. What! you won't eat anything?"
"No thank you, dear, I haven't time. I only fled back to tell you I am off to Copthorne. I am a little anxious about Eleanor not having written you know. She was rather seedy and done up before she left, and those old people are bad correspondents."
"You think she is ill?"
"I fear something is wrong."
"But you must have something before you go, or you will be quite faint."
Philip is not in the mood to argue; he answers her abruptly, almost rudely, and guessing that something is wrong, she lets him go, watching him drive away with sorrowful compassionate eyes.