Oh, Will," she said, with a
great sob, "if only he had lived!"

He held her closely, and lying against his breast she felt the sigh he
stifled. His lips were upon the silvered hair.

"Perhaps--some day--Daisy," he said, under his breath.

And she, clinging to him, whispered back through her tears, "Oh,
Will,--I do hope so."

CHAPTER XLVII

IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP

It was very hot down on the buzzing race-course, almost intolerably
so in the opinion of the girl who sat in Lady Bassett's
elegantly-appointed carriage, and looked out with the indifference of
boredom upon the sweltering crowds.

"Dear child, don't look so freezingly aloof!" she had been entreated
more than once; and each time the soft injunction had reached her the
wide dark eyes had taken to themselves a more utter disdain.

If she looked freezing, she was far from feeling it, for the hot
weather was at its height, and Ghawalkhand, though healthy, was not
the coolest spot in the Indian Empire. Sir Reginald Bassett had been
appointed British Resident, to act as adviser to the young rajah
thereof, and there had been no question of a flitting to Simla that
year. Lady Bassett had deplored this, but Muriel rejoiced. She never
wanted to see Simla again.

Life was a horrible emptiness to her in those days. She was weary
beyond expression, and had no heart for the gaieties in which she was
plunged. Idle compliments had never attracted her, and flirtations
were an abomination to her. She looked through and beyond them with
the eyes of a sphinx. But there were very few who suspected the
intolerable ache that throbbed unceasingly behind her impassivity--the
loneliness of spirit that oppressed her like a crushing, physical
weight.

Even Bobby Fraser, who saw most things, could scarcely have been aware
of this; yet certainly it was not the vivacity of her conversation
that induced him to seek her out as he generally did when he saw
her sitting apart. A very cheery bachelor was Bobby Fraser, and a
tremendous favourite wherever he went. He was a wonderful organizer,
and he invariably had a hand in anything of an entertaining nature
that was going forward.

He had just brought her tea, and was waiting beside her while she
drank it. Lady Bassett had left the carriage for the paddock, and
Muriel sat alone.

Had she had anything on the last race, he wanted to know? Muriel had
not. He had, and was practically ruined in consequence--a calamity
which