Margaret was now incensed, Helen surprised, and even slightly amused.

Brett rattled on, demanding and receiving occasional curt replies.  The tea came.

Whatever the failings of Beechcroft might be, they had not reached the kitchen.  Delightful little rolls of thin bread and butter, sandwiches of cucumber and pate de foie gras, tempting morsels of pastry, home-made jam, and crisp biscuits showed that the housekeeper had unconsciously adopted Brett’s view of her mistress’s needs.

Margaret, hardly knowing what she did, toyed at first with these delicacies, until she yielded to the demands of her stimulated appetite.  Helen and Brett were unfeignedly hungry, and when Brett rose to ring for more cucumber sandwiches, they all laughed.

“The first time I met you,” said Margaret, whose cheeks began to exhibit a faint trace of colour, “I told you that you could read a woman’s heart.  I did not know you were also qualified to act as her physician.”

“If the first part of my treatment is deemed successful, then I hope you will adopt the second.  I am quite in earnest concerning Whitby, or Cromer, if you do not care to go far north.”

“But, Mr. Brett, how can I possibly leave Beechcroft now?”

“Did Mr. Capella consult you when he went to Naples?  Are you not mistress here?  Take my advice.  Give the majority of your servants a holiday.  Close your house, or, better still, have every room dismantled on the pretence of a thorough renovation.  Leave it to paperhangers, plasterers, and caretakers.  The rector may be persuaded to allow Miss Layton to come with you to London, where you should visit your dressmaker, for you can now dispense with mourning.  When your husband returns from Naples, let him rage to the top of his bent.  By that time I may be able to spare Mr. Hume to look after both of you for a week or so.  Permit your husband to join you when he humbly seeks permission—­not before.  Believe me, Mrs. Capella, if you have strength of will to adopt my programme in its entirety, the trip to Naples may have results wholly unexpected by the runaway.”

“Really, Margaret, Mr. Brett’s advice seems to me to be very sensible.  It happens, too, that my father needs a change of air, and I think we could both persuade him to come with us to the coast.”

Helen, like all well regulated young Englishwomen, quickly took a reasonable view of the problem.  Already Capella’s heroics and his wife’s lamentations began to appear ridiculous.

Margaret looked wistfully at both of them.

“You do not understand why my husband has gone to Naples,” she said slowly, seemingly revolving something in her mind.

“I think I can guess his motive,” said the barrister.

“Tell me your explanation of the riddle,” she answered lightly, though a shadow of fear crossed her eyes.