sition of limited opportunities which she had firmly
refused to assign to the new-comer. A child of unusual character was
Olga Ratcliffe, impulsive but shrewd, with quick, pale eyes which
never seemed to take more than a brief glance at anything, yet which
very little ever escaped. At first sight Muriel had experienced a
certain feeling of aversion to her, so marked was the likeness this
child bore to the man whom she desired so passionately to shut out of
her very memory. But a nearer intimacy had weakened her antipathy
till very soon it had altogether disappeared. Olga had a swift and
fascinating fashion of endearing herself to all who caught her fancy
and, somewhat curiously, Muriel was one of the favoured number. What
there was to attract a child of her quick temperament in the grave,
silent girl in mourning who held aloof so coldly from the rest of the
world was never apparent. But that a strong attraction existed for her
was speedily evident, and Muriel, who was quite destitute of any
near relations of her own, soon found that a free admittance to the
doctor's home circle was accorded her on all sides, whenever she chose
to avail herself of it.

But though Daisy was an immense favourite and often ran into the
Ratcliffes' house, which was not more than a few hundred yards away
from her own little abode, Muriel went but seldom. The doctor's wife,
though always kind, was too busy to seek her out. And so it had been
left to the doctor himself to drag her at length from her seclusion,
and he had done it with a determination that would take no refusal.
She did not know him very intimately, had never asked his advice,
or held any confidential talk with him. At the outset she had been
horribly afraid lest he should have heard of her engagement to Nick,
but, since he never referred to her life in India or to Nick as in any
fashion connected with herself, this fear had gradually subsided. She
was able to tell herself thankfully that Nick was dropping away from
her into the past, and to hope with some conviction that the great
gulf that separated them would never be bridged.

Yet, notwithstanding this, she had a fugitive wish to know how her
late comrade in adversity was faring. Captain Grange's news regarding
him had aroused in her a vague uneasiness, which would not be quieted.

She wondered if by any means she could extract any information from
Olga, and this she presently essayed to do, when play was over for the
day