"Is she to hold herself at his disposal on that account? I must say I fail to see the obligation."

There was even a hint of scorn in Grange's tone. At sound of it, Daisy turned round and laid her hand winningly upon his arm.

"Dear old boy," she said gently, "don't be angry. I'm not against you."

He softened instantly. It was not in him to harbour resentment against a woman. He took her hand, and heaved a deep sigh.

"No, Daisy," he said half sadly, "you mustn't be against me. I always count on you."

Daisy laughed a little wistfully. "Always did, dear, didn't you? Well, tell me some more. What made you propose all of a sudden like this?

Are you--very much in love?"

He looked at her. "Perhaps not quite as we used to understand the term," he said, seeming to speak half-reluctantly.

"Oh, we were very extravagant and foolish," rejoined Daisy lightly.

"I didn't mean quite in that way, Blake. You at least are past the age for such feathery nonsense, or should be. I was--aeons and aeons ago."

"Were you?" he said, and still he looked at her half in wonder, it seemed, and half in regret.

Daisy nodded at him briskly. The colour had come back to her face.

"Yes, I have arrived at years of discretion," she a.s.sured him. "And I quite agree with Solomon that childhood and youth are vanity. But now let us talk about this. Is she in love with you, I wonder? I must be remarkably blind not to have seen it. How in the world I shall ever face Nick again, I can't imagine."

Grange frowned. "I'm getting a bit tired of Nick," he said moodily.

"He crops up everywhere."

Daisy's face flushed. "Don't you ever again say a word against him in my hearing," she said. "For I won't bear it. He may not be handsome like you; but for all that, he's about the finest man I know."

"Good heavens!" said Blake. "As much as that!"

She nodded vehemently. "Yes, quite as much. And he loves her, too, loves her with his whole soul. Perhaps you never knew that they would have been married long ago in Simla if Muriel hadn't overheard some malicious gossip and thrown him over. How in the world she made him let her go I never knew, but she did it, though I believe it nearly broke his heart. He came to me afterwards and begged me to keep her with me as long as I could, and take care of her."

"All this," broke in Grange, "is what you promised never to speak of?"

"Yes," she admitted recklessly. "But it is what you ought to know--what you must know--before you go any further."

"It will make no difference to me," he observed. "It is quite obvious that she never cared for him in the smallest degree. Why, my dear girl, she hates the man!"

Daisy gave vent to a sigh of exasperation. "When you come to talk about women's feelings, Blake, you make me tired. You will never be anything but a great big b.o.o.by in that respect as long as you live."

Grange became silent. He never argued with Daisy. She had always had the upper hand. He watched her as she sat down again, her pretty face in the glow of the fire; but though fully aware of the fact, she would not look at him.

"She is a dear girl, and you are not half good enough for her," she said, stooping a little to the blaze.

"I know that," he answered bluntly. "I wasn't good enough for you, either, but you would have had me--once."

She made a dainty gesture with one shoulder. "That also was aeons ago.

Why disturb that poor old skeleton?"

He did not answer, but he continued to watch her steadily with eyes that held an expression of dumb faithfulness--like the eyes of a dog.

Daisy was softly and meditatively poking the fire. "If you marry her, Blake," she said, "you will have to be enormously good to her. She isn't the sort of girl to be satisfied with anything but the best."

"I should do my utmost to make her happy," he answered.

She glanced up momentarily. "I wonder if you would succeed," she murmured.

For a single instant their eyes met. Daisy's fell away at once, and the firelight showed a swift deepening of colour on her face.

As for Blake, he stood quite stiff for a few seconds, then with an abruptness of movement unusual with him, he knelt suddenly down beside her.

"Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded strained, almost hoa.r.s.e, "you're not vexed about it? You don't mind my marrying? It isn't--you know--it isn't--as if--"

He broke off, for Daisy had jerked upright as if at the piercing of a nerve. She looked at him fully, with blazing eyes. "How can you be so ridiculous, Blake?" she exclaimed, with sharp impatience. "That was all over and done with long, long ago, and you know it. Besides, even if it hadn't been, I'm not a dog in the manger. Surely you know that too. Oh, go away, and don't be absurd!"

She put her hand against his shoulder, and gave him a small but vehement push.

He stood up again immediately, but he did not look hurt, and the expression of loyalty in his eyes never wavered.

There was a short pause before Daisy spoke again.

"Well," she said, with a brief sigh, "I suppose it's no good crying over spilt milk, but I wish you had chosen any girl in the world but Muriel, Blake; I do indeed. You will have to write to Sir Reginald Ba.s.sett. He is her guardian, subject to his wife's management. Perhaps she will approve of you. She hated Nick for some reason."

"I don't see how they can object," Grange said, in the moody tone he always used when perplexed.

"No," said Daisy. "Nor did Nick. But Lady Ba.s.sett managed to put a spoke in his wheel notwithstanding. Still, if Muriel wants to marry you--or thinks she does--she will probably take her own way. And possibly regret it afterwards."

"You think I shall not make her happy?" said Grange.

Daisy hesitated a little. "I think," she said slowly, "that you are not the man for her. However,"--she rose with another shrug--"I may be wrong. In any case you have gone too far for me to meddle. I can't help either of you now. You must just do what you think best." She held out her hand. "I must go up now. Baby is restless to-night, and may want me. Good-night."

Blake stooped, and carried her hand softly and suddenly to his lips.

He seemed for an instant on the verge of saying something, but no words came. There was a faint, half-mocking smile on Daisy's face as she turned away. But she was silent also. It seemed that they understood each other.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SLEEP CALLED DEATH

It was an unspeakable relief to Muriel that, in congratulating her upon her engagement, Daisy made no reference to Nick. She did not know that this forbearance had been dictated long before by Nick himself.

The days that followed her engagement had in them a sort of rapture that she had never known before. She felt as a young wild creature suddenly escaped from the iron jaws of a trap in which it had long languished, and she rioted in the sense of liberty that was hers. Her youth was coming back to her in leaps and bounds with the advancing spring.

She missed nothing in Blake's courtship. His gentleness had always attracted her, and the intimacy that had been growing up between them made their intercourse always easy and pleasant. They never spoke of Nick. But ever in Muriel's heart there lay the soothing knowledge that she had nothing more to fear. Her terrible, single-handed contests against overwhelming odds were over, and she was safe. She was convinced that, whatever happened, Blake would take care of her. Was he not the protector she would have chosen from the beginning, could she but have had her way?

So, placidly and happily, the days drifted by, till March was nearly gone; and then, sudden and staggering as a sh.e.l.l from a masked battery, there fell the blow that was destined to end that peaceful time.