Theydon knocked, and heard Evelyn’s voice bidding him enter.  Mrs. Forbes was lying on a couch, and her daughter had evidently been seated near her, reading a newspaper.

“I’ve brought my sister to see you,” he explained.  “I’ve been relating such heroic things about you that she simply refused to go home without ocular proof of your existence.”

Mrs. Forbes would have risen, but was restrained by the girl’s emphatic cry: 

“Mother, why won’t you behave like an obedient invalid?”

Thus coerced, “Mother” did behave.

“They insist on treating me as a casualty,” she cried cheerfully.  “What is your sister’s name, Mr. Theydon?”

“Mollie,” he said thoughtlessly, for he had just touched Evelyn Forbes’s hand, and the mere contact gave him an electrical shock.

The women laughed, and Mrs. Paxton blushed.

“Mollie Paxton, at any rate,” she said, realizing at once that her brother had completely lost all self-possession at sight of his divinity.  “Now, as you are going to stay here, Frank, you shall give me the full measure of the few minutes I can spare, so go and talk over your adventures with Mr. Forbes while I gossip with the prisoners.”

Theydon saw that his tactful sister had struck the right note.  She might be trusted to make herself eminently agreeable.  Her bright, smiling manner had already created a good impression, and a lively chat with one who had not passed through the vicissitudes which beset the Forbes family would be an excellent tonic.

“Before I efface myself, may I be allowed to congratulate Mrs. Forbes on her escape?” he said, halting at the door.

“Yes, you may,” replied the older lady.  “And, just to show that I am convalescent, kindly tell Tomlinson that I am coming down to luncheon, and that Mrs. Paxton will join us.”

Forbes was leaving the telephone when Theydon regained the hall and explained that he had been dismissed from the feminine conclave upstairs.  The millionaire closed the door and motioned his companion to a chair.

“How long will it be before London wakes up to the knowledge of what is going on in its midst?” he said.  “Is there anything in the newspapers?  I have had no time to read.  I passed a rather sleepless night, so did not rise until a late hour.  Then Helen was fired at.  I need hardly tell you that my time has been fully occupied since.”

Theydon gave a resume of the paragraph which had appeared in at least one of the morning journals, and admitted that some inkling of the truth was bound to gain publicity during the next few hours.

“I cannot understand why it is the reporters are not here by the score already,” he went on.  “Some passer-by must have seen or heard the shooting.  A pistol cannot be fired in a quiet square like this without attracting general attention.”