orld's end--and gladly," Muriel
answered, in her deep voice. "You know I would."

And that was all that passed between them, for Will was present, and
Daisy had already begun to lead her guest into the house.

As the evening wore on, Muriel was more and more struck by the great
change she saw in her. They had not met for ten months, but twice
as many years seemed to have passed over Daisy, crushing her beneath
their weight. All her old sprightliness had vanished utterly. She
spoke but little, and there was in her manner to her husband a wistful
humility, a submission so absolute, that Muriel, remembering her
ancient spirit, could have wept.

Will looked at her as if he longed to say something when she bade him
good-night, but Daisy was beside her, and he could only give her a
tremendous handgrip.

They went away together, and Daisy accompanied her to her room. But
the wall of reserve that had been built up between them was not to be
shattered at a touch. Neither of them knew exactly how to approach
it. There was no awkwardness between them, there was no lack of
tenderness, but the door that had closed so long ago was hard to
open. Daisy seemed to avoid it with a morbid dread, and it was not in
Muriel's power to make the first move.

So for awhile they lingered together, talking commonplaces, and at
length parted for the night, holding each other closely, without
words.

It seemed evident that Daisy could not bring herself to speak at
present, and Muriel went to bed with a heavy heart.

She was far too weary to lie awake, but her tired brain would not
rest. For the first time in many dreary months she dreamed of Nick.

He was jeering at her in devilish jubilation because she had changed
her mind about marrying him, but lacked the courage to tell him so.

CHAPTER XLIX

THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG

The night was very far advanced when Muriel was aroused from her
dreams by a sound which she drowsily fancied must have been going on
for some time. It did not disturb her very seriously at first; she
even subconsciously made an effort to ignore it. But at length a
sudden stab of understanding pierced her sleep-laden senses, and in a
moment she started up broad awake. Some one was in the room with her.
Through the dumb stillness before the dawn there came the sound of
bitter weeping.

For a few seconds she sat motionless, startled, bewildered, half
afraid. The room was in nearly total darkness. Only in dimme