ed, "because you know, or you would
know if you took the trouble to find out. Grange, I wish you would
give me a light. Hullo, Olga, there's a hawk! See him? Straight above
that cedar!"

All turned to look at the dark shape of the bird hovering in mid-air.
Seconds passed. Suddenly there was a flashing, downward swoop, and the
sky was empty.

Olga exclaimed, and Nick sent up a wild whoop of applause. Muriel gave
a great start and glanced at him. For a single instant his look met
hers; then with a sick shudder, she turned aside.

"You are cold," said Grange.

Yes, she was cold. It was as if an icy hand had closed upon her heart.
As from an immense distance, she heard Olga's voice of protest.

"Oh, Nick, how can you cheer?"

And his careless reply. "My good child, don't grudge the poor creature
his dinner. Even a bird of prey must live. Come along! We'll go in to
tea. Muriel is cold."

They went in, and again his easy hospitality overcame all
difficulties.

When at length the visitors rode away, they left him grinning a cheery
farewell from his doorstep. He seemed to be in the highest spirits.

They were more than half-way home when Muriel turned impetuously to
her companion, breaking a long silence.

"Blake," she said, "I am ready to marry you as soon as you like."

PART IV

CHAPTER XXXII

THE FACE IN THE STORM

Muriel saw very little of her _fiance_ during the weeks that followed
their visit to Redlands. There was not indeed room for him at the
cottage at Brethaven which she and Daisy had taken for the summer
months. He had, moreover, several visits to pay, and his leave would
be up in September.

Muriel herself, having once made her decision, had plenty to occupy
her. They had agreed to adhere to Sir Reginald Bassett's plan for
them, and to be married in India some time before Christmas. But she
did not want to go to Lady Bassett's sister before she left England,
and she was glad when Daisy declared that she herself would go to town
with her in the autumn.

A change had come over Daisy of late, a change which Muriel keenly
felt, but which she was powerless to define. It seemed to date from
the arrival of Nick though she did not definitely connect it with him.
There was nothing palpable in it, nothing even remotely suggestive
of a breach between them; only, subconsciously as it were, Muriel had
become aware that their silence, which till then had been the silence
of sympathy, had subt