I've learned how to please--or
should I say how not to displease?--you sensitive ladies."

"Did Mummy teach you?" asked Peggy with interest.

Will laughed with his eyes on his wife's face. "On that subject," he
said, "she taught me absolutely all I know."

Daisy smiled in return. "I set you some hard lessons, didn't I, Will?"
she said. "Why, how late we are! I had no idea the evening mail was in.
Peggy, run to _ayah_, darling! Only one letter for me! Who on earth is
it from?"

She took it up and inspected the handwriting on the envelope.

"It's a bold enough scrawl," said Will. "Some male acquaintance
apparently."

"No one interesting, I am sure," said Daisy.

She opened the envelope as she stood, withdrew the letter, and glanced
at the signature.

The next instant she flushed suddenly and hotly. "That man!" she
ejaculated.

"What man?" said Will.

She turned to the beginning of the letter. "Oh, it's no one you know,
dear. A man I met long ago at Mahalaleshwar--that time you were at
Bombay, soon after we married. He was a shocking flirt. So was I--in
those days. But he got too serious at last, and I had to cut and run. I
daresay there wasn't any real harm in him. It was probably all my own
fault. It always is the woman's fault, isn't it?"

She twined her arm in his, looking up into his face with a little smile,
half-mocking, half-wistful.

He stooped to kiss her. "Well, what does the bounder want?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said. "Simply, he finds himself in this
direction after big game, and, having heard of our being here, he wants
to know if we will put him up for a night or two--for the sake of old
times, he has the effrontery to add."

"Do you want him?" asked Will, the echo of a fighting note in his voice.

She smiled again as she heard it. "No, not particularly. I am really
indifferent. But I think it would look rather silly to refuse, don't
you? Besides, it would be good for him to see how old and staid I have
become."

Will looked slightly grim. Nevertheless, he did not argue the point.
"All right, Daisy. Do as you think best!" he said.

She returned to her letter, still holding his arm. "That's very wise of
you, Will," she said softly. "Then I suppose I shall write and tell him
to come."

"What's the fellow's name?" asked Will.

Daisy turned again to the signature. "Merton Hunt-Goring. He was a major
in the Sappers, but he has retired now, he says. He can't be very young.
He was no chi