ers all the same, dear,"
she said, passing her arm about the girl. "And yours is going to be
a happy love story. The ring came finally into the possession of the
lady's grandson, and it was he who gave it to Nick's aunt--the maiden
aunt. It was her engagement ring. She never wore any other, and she
only gave it to Nick when her fingers were too rheumatic to wear it
any longer. Her lover, poor boy, was killed in the Crimea. There!
Forgive me if I have made you sad. Death is not really sad, you
know, where there is love. People talk of it as if it conquered love,
whereas it is in fact all the other way round. Love conquers death."

Muriel hid her face suddenly on Daisy's shoulder. "Oh, are you quite
sure?" she whispered.

"I am quite sure, darling." The reply was instant and full of
conviction. "It doesn't need a good woman to be quite sure of that.
Over and over again it has been the only solid thing I have had to
hold by. I've clung to it blindly in outer darkness, God only knows
how often."

Her arms tightened about Muriel, and she fell silent. For minutes the
room was absolutely quiet. Then Muriel raised her head.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

Her eyes were full of tears as her lips met Daisy's, but she brushed
them swiftly away before they fell.

Daisy was smiling at her. "Come," she said, "I want to show you my
baby. He is just the wee-est bit fractious, as he is cutting a tooth.
The doctor says he will be all right, but he still threatens to send
us both to England."

"And you don't want to go?" questioned Muriel.

Daisy shook her head. "I want to see my cousin Blake," she said
lightly, "when he comes marching home again. Did you hear the rumour
that he is to have the V.C.? They ought to give it to Nick, too, if he
does."

"Oh, I shouldn't think so. Nick didn't do anything. At least," Muriel
stumbled a little, "nothing to be proud of."

Daisy laughed and caught her face between her hands. "Except save his
girl from destruction," she said. "Doesn't that count? Oh, Muriel, I
know exactly what made him want you. No, you needn't be afraid. I'm
not going to tell you. Wild horses sha'n't drag it from me. But he's
the luckiest man in India, and I think he knows it. What lovely hair
you have! I'll come round early on your wedding-day and do it for
you. And what will you wear? It mustn't be a black wedding whatever
etiquette may decree. You look too pathetic in black, and it's a
barbarous