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ARJIE! Marjie! Where are you?"

Eric dashed across the lawn of The Grange as if the Seven Deadly Sins were pursuing him.

Marjorie appeared at the French windows of the morning-room, of which she had taken possession since Lady Warren's departure.

Eric made towards her at full tilt. She turned back into the grey room out of the sun's glare, Eric fol- lowing.

"Such a fight!" he gasped, as he threw himself down into Lady Warren's favourite chair. "It "

"A fight!" She turned suddenly. "Who? What?"

The colour had left her cheeks. She was conscious that she was trembling.

"Smith and Thirk," he panted. "I've run all the way. I've " He paused from sheer lack of oxygen. "Tell me, Eric." She dropped into the nearest chair, conscious of a curious sensation of weakness in her knees. "Tell me, Eric," she repeated, a note of sharp- ness in her voice.

"All right," he panted. "Let a fellow get his wind first. I've run all the way to tell you, and Mrs. Higgs gave me treacle pudding for lunch."

"Is is he hurt?" she interrupted, conscious that even to herself her voice sounded strange. 305