“We certainly didn’t,” he said.  “It’s good sometimes to know that people are not all they seem.  I congratulate you, er—­Dr. Wade.”

Wingarde turned his attention to his wife’s companion.  His face was very dark.

“Take the child to her mother, please, Mrs. Ritchie!” he said curtly, over his shoulder.

The matron departed discreetly, but at the door the child in her arms began to cry.

Wingarde turned swiftly, took the little one’s face between his hands, spoke a soft word, and kissed it.

Then, as the matron moved away, he walked back into the room, closing the door behind him.  All the tenderness with which he had comforted the wailing baby had vanished from his face.

“Mr. Neville,” he said shortly, “my wife will return in the car with me.  I will relieve you of your attendance upon her.”

Archie turned crimson, but he managed to control himself—­more for the sake of the girl who stood in total silence by his side than from any idea of expediency.

“Certainly,” he said, “if Mrs. Wingarde also prefers that arrangement.”

Nina glanced at him.  He saw that her lip was quivering painfully.  She did not attempt to speak.

Archie turned to go.  But almost instantly Wingarde’s voice arrested him.

“I can give you a seat in the car if you wish,” he said.  He spoke with less sternness, but his face had not altered.

Archie stopped.  Again for Nina’s sake he choked back his wrath and accepted the churlishly proffered amendment.

Wingarde drank his tea, strolling about the room.  He did not again address his wife directly.

As for Nina, though she answered Archie when he spoke to her, it was with very obvious effort.  She glanced from time to time at her husband as if in some uncertainty.  Finally, when they took leave of the matron and went down to the car she seemed to hail the move with relief.

Throughout the drive westwards scarcely a word was spoken.  At the end of the journey Archie turned deliberately and addressed Wingarde.  His face was white and dogged.

“I should like a word with you in private,” he said.

Wingarde looked at him for a moment as if he meant to refuse.  Then abruptly he gave way.

“I am at your service,” he said formally.

And Archie marched into the house in Nina’s wake.

In the hall Wingarde touched his shoulder.

“Come into the smoking-room!” he said quietly.

X

TAKEN TO TASK

“I want to know what you mean,” said Archie.

He stood up very straight, with the summer sunlight full in his face, and confronted Nina’s husband without a hint of dismay in his bearing.

Wingarde looked at him with a very faint smile on his grim lips.

“You wish to take me to task?” he asked.

“I do,” said Archie decidedly.