made such an arrangement
unless Daisy had allowed it. And if Daisy permitted him to come down to
spend the day with her and Gladys, it surely implied that Daisy wanted
very much to see him. But Lady Nottingham had told her that Daisy was
not in love with him. That was still an anchor of consolation.

All this was no effort of consecutive thought which required to be
reasoned out. It was all in front of her, spread out like a landscape,
to be grasped in a moment. There was Victor, too....

Daisy moved a step nearer her chair.

"It's three days since you got back, Aunt Jeannie," she said, "and I
haven't had a real word with you yet. May I come and talk to you this
evening when we go up to bed? I have such heaps to say."

This was too dangerous. At any cost Jeannie wanted to avoid an intimate
conversation with Daisy. She had her work to do, and she did not think
she could go through with it if Daisy told her in her own dear voice
what she already knew. She herself had to be a flirt, had to exhibit
this man to Daisy in another light, to make her disgusted with him. That
was a hard row to hoe; she did not want it made more difficult.

Luckily, even as Daisy spoke, an interruption came. The sound of men's
voices sounded from an open door.

"My darling, how I long to talk to you," she said, "or, rather, to have
you talk to me. But to-night, Daisy, I am so tired. When I can escape
and go to my bedroom, I shall just tumble into bed. You look so well,
dear, and so happy. You couldn't tell me anything nicer than that. Ah!
here are the men. Let us multiply ourselves."

CHAPTER XIII.

Lord Lindfield had carried out Jeannie's instructions to the letter, and
after the women had left the dining-room had relapsed into a state of
supreme boredom. It had not been a difficult task; his boredom was quite
genuine, for he did not in the least wish to talk to Victor Braithwaite
or to listen to Jim Crowfoot, or pass the wine to two or three other
men. He wanted to tell Daisy how impossible it had been to get down
earlier in the day; he wanted also to tell Mrs. Halton what a jolly
drive they had had together. It had been jolly; there was no question
whatever about it. She had been so delightful, too, about the breakdown
of that wretched motor car. Other women might have been annoyed, and
audibly wondered when it was going to start again. But she had not been
the least annoyed. She had said, "Oh, I hope it will take a long time to