atter?"

Muriel put an arm around her. "No, nothing," she said. "Olga, will it
surprise you very much to hear that I am not going to marry Captain
Grange after all?"

"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I
didn't want you to either."

"Why not?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. "I thought you liked
him."

"Oh, yes, of course I do," said Olga. "But he isn't half the man Nick
is, even though he is a V.C. Oh, Muriel, I wish,--I do wish--you would
marry Nick. Perhaps you will now."

But at that Muriel cried out sharply and sprang to her feet, almost
thrusting Olga from her.

"No, never!" she exclaimed, "Never,--never,--never!" Then, seeing
Olga's hurt face, "Oh, forgive me, dear! I didn't mean to be
unkind. But please don't ever dream of such a thing again. It--it's
impossible--quite. Ah, there is the gong for tea. Let us go down."

They went down hand in hand. But Olga was very quiet for the rest of
the evening; and she did not cling to Muriel as usual when she said
good-night.

CHAPTER XLII

THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL

It was growing late on that same evening when to Daisy, packing in her
room with feverish haste, a message was brought that Captain Ratcliffe
was waiting, and desired to see her.

Her first impulse was to excuse herself from the interview, for she
and Nick had never stood upon ceremony; but a very brief consideration
decided her to see him. Since he had come at an unusual hour, it
seemed probable that he had some special object in view, and if that
were so, she would find it hard to turn him from his purpose. But she
resolved to make the interview as brief as possible. She had no place
for Nick in her life just then.

She entered the little parlour with a certain impetuosity, that was
not wholly spontaneous. "My dear Nick," she said, as she did so,
"I can give you exactly five minutes, not one second more, for I am
frightfully busy packing up my things to leave to-morrow."

He came swiftly to meet her, so swiftly that she was for the moment
deceived, and fancied that he was about to greet her with his
customary bantering gallantry. But he did not lift her fingers to his
lips after his usual gay fashion. He only held her proffered hand very
tightly for several seconds without verbal greeting of any sort.

Suddenly he began to speak, and as he did so she seemed to see
a hundred wrinkles spring into being on his yellow face. "I have
something to say to you,