"A day or so more perhaps here where it is quiet--" Philip flushed hotly, "Excellency!" he protested feebly.
The Baron bowed courteously to Diane.
"If I may crave still further hospitality and indulgence," he begged regretfully.

"There is already much excitement at the Sherrill place owing to the officious act of my man, Themar, and his accident.
Another invalid--my secretary--one flounders in a dragnet of unfortunate circumstances.

And I am sensitive in the disturbance of my host's guests--" Diane's eyes as they rested upon Philip were very kind.
"Excellency," she said warmly, "Mr.Poynter's tent lies there among the trees.

I trust he will not hesitate to use it until he is strong again.

Fortunately we are equipped for emergency." The Baron bowed gratefully.
"You are a young woman of exceeding common sense!" he said with deep respect.
Philip was very grateful that the Baron had not misunderstood; a breath might shatter the idyllic crystal into atoms.
Later, when the Baron had departed, Philip flushed suddenly at the ugly suspicion rising wraithlike in his mind.