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He looked disturbed and anxious.
"Neville is not well," he said abruptly, addressing his wife. "I've sent
him home. He wouldn't have been able to sit this thing out." And he
glanced half angrily towards the stage--the curtain had just gone up
again and displayed the wondrous Violet Vere still in her "humming-bird"
character, swinging on the branch of a tree and (after the example of
all humming-birds) smoking a cigar with brazen-faced tranquillity.
"I am sorry he is ill," said Thelma gently. "That is why you were so
long away?"
"Was I long?" returned Philip somewhat absently. "I didn't know it. I
went to ask a question behind the scenes."
Lady Winsleigh coughed and glanced at Thelma, whose eyes dropped
instantly.
"I suppose you saw Violet Vere?" asked Clara.
"Yes, I saw her," he replied briefly. He seemed irritable and
vexed--moreover, decidedly impatient. Presently he said--
"Lady Winsleigh, would you mind very much if we left this place and went
home? I'm rather anxious about Neville--he's had a shock.


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