Without a word Agatha slowed down, turned up a by-road, and stopped.  Then she proceeded to back the car.

“What on earth is she doing?” said I.

She turned a glowing face to mine.

“Going back to the horse-pond,” she flashed.

I laid a hand on her arm and she stopped.

“My dear, if you must have a bath, you shall have one directly you get to White Ladies.  I’ll turn on the water for you.  But let me beg of you——­”

“If I go on, will you promise to behave?”

“Faithfully.”

“And fold your arms and sit like a groom all the way?”

“I suppose you couldn’t make it a footman.  Then I could stand on the petrol tank.  However, as it’s your birthday——­”

I folded my arms with a sigh.  Instantly Agatha leaned towards me with a dazzling smile.

“Good Boy,” she said in a caressing tone.  “Now he shall have a stamp album.”

“But I don’t collect stamps.”

The smile deepened.  But for her red mouth, her little white teeth would have been the prettiest things in the world.

“Well, I’d thought of a stamp album,” she said slowly.  “However, as it’s your birthday——­”

A minute later we were back in the main road.

* * * * *

By my direction Miss Deriot drove straight to the stables, and we left the car standing in the middle of the yard.

As we walked round to the front of the house, “We won’t tell the others that we’ve found her just yet,” said I.  “We’ll hear what they’ve got to say first.”

“Perhaps they’re all out looking for her,” said Agatha.

“Not all.  Daphne’s sure to be here somewhere.”

As I spoke we rounded a clump of laurels to see the lady in question comfortably ensconced in a deck-chair upon the lawn.  By her side was Jill, seated upon a cushion, one little foot tucked under her, nursing the other’s instep with her slim, brown hand.  On a rug at her feet lay Jonah, his chin propped between his two palms and a pipe in his mouth.

All three were gazing contentedly across the grass to where the drive swept wide to the foot of the broad grey steps. There stood a handsome Rolls-Royce, the facsimile of the one from which we had just alighted.

With a great gasp Agatha stopped dead, and I recoiled as from a spectre.  Instinctively we clasped one another.

“It’s all right,” I whispered.  “I’ve seen it too.  It’ll go away in a moment.  Shows what imagination will do.”

“But—­but it’s real!” cried Agatha.

“Real enough, my lady,” said Jonah’s voice.  He seemed to be speaking from a great distance.  “And I’ll bet you never expected to see her again so soon,” he added, looking at me with a smile.

“To tell you the truth,” said I, “we didn’t.”

As in a dream I watched a dazed and stammering Agatha made welcome and set in a chair by my sister’s side.  Somebody—­Jill, I fancy—­led me to the rug and persuaded me to sit down.  Mechanically I started to fumble for a cigarette.  Then I heard Jonah talking, and I came to my senses.