bird had begun to sing. Again and
again she told herself that she had no cause for gladness; but again
and yet again that sweet, elusive music filled her soul.

She would have gladly stayed on with Daisy, seeing how the latter
clung to her, for an indefinite period; but this was not to be.

Daisy came out on to the verandah one morning with a letter in her
hand.

"My dear," she said, "I regret to say that, I must part with you.
I have had a most touching epistle from Lady Bassett, describing at
length your many wasted opportunities, and urging me to return you to
the fold with all speed. It seems there is to be a State Ball at the
palace--an immense affair to which the Rajah is inviting all the big
guns for miles around--and Lady Bassett thinks that her dear child
ought not to miss such a gorgeous occasion. She seems to think that
something of importance depends upon it, and hints that I should be
almost criminally selfish to deprive you of such a treat as this will
be."

Muriel lifted a flushed face from a letter of her own. "I have heard
from Sir Reginald," she said. "Evidently she has made him write. I
can't think why, for she never wants me when I am with her. I don't
see why I should go, do you? After all, I am of age and independent."

A very tender smile touched Daisy's lips. "I think you had better go,
darling," she said.

Muriel opened her eyes wide. "But why--"

Daisy checked the question half uttered. "I think it will be better
for you. I never meant to let you stay till the rains, so it makes
little more than a week's difference. It sounds as if I want to be
rid of you, doesn't it? But you know it isn't that. I shall miss you
horribly, but you have done what you came to do, and I shall get on
all right now. So I am not going to keep you with me any longer. My
reasons are not Lady Bassett's reasons, but all the same it would be
selfish of me to let you stay. Later on perhaps--in the winter--you
will come and make a long stay; spend Christmas with us, and we will
have some real fun, shall we, Will?" turning to her husband who had
just appeared.

He stared for an instant as if he thought he had not heard aright, and
there was to Muriel something infinitely pathetic in the way his brown
hand touched his wife's shoulder as he passed her and made reply.

"Oh, rather!" he said. "We'll have a regular jollification with as
many old friends as we can collect. Don't forget, Miss Roscoe! You are
booked first