me some months ago. She is in very
indifferent health, and has expressed a most earnest wish to
see you. I believe there is something which she wishes to
tell you--something that weighs upon her heavily; and though
I trust that all will go well with her, I cannot help feeling
that she would stand a much better chance of this if only her
mind could be set at rest. I know I am asking a big thing
of you, for the journey is a ghastly one at this time of the
year, but if of your goodness you can bring yourself to face
it, I will myself meet you and escort you across the Plains.
Will you think the matter carefully over? And perhaps you
would wire a reply.

"I have written without Daisy's knowledge, as she seems
to feel that she has forfeited the right to your
friendship.--Sincerely yours,

"W. MUSGRAVE."

Muriel's reply was despatched that evening, almost before she had
fully read the appeal.

"Starting to-morrow," was all she said.

CHAPTER XLVIII

THE HEALING OF THE BREACH

Lady Bassett considered the decision deplorably headlong, and said
so; but her remonstrances were of no avail. Muriel tossed aside her
listlessness as resolutely as the ball-dress that had been laid out
for the evening's festivity, and plunged at once into preparations for
her journey. She knew full well that it was of no actual importance
to Lady Bassett whether she went or stayed, and she did not pretend to
think otherwise. Moreover, no power on earth would have kept her away
from Daisy now that she knew herself to be wanted.

Though more than half of the three days' journey lay across the
sweltering Plains, she contemplated it without anxiety, even with
rejoicing. At last, the breach, over which she had secretly mourned so
deeply, was to be healed.

The next morning at an early hour she was upon her way. She looked
out as she drove through the gates for the old native beggar who had
crouched at the entrance on the previous afternoon. He was not there,
but a little way further she met him hobbling along to take up his
post for the day. From the folds of his chuddah his unkempt beard
wagged entreaty at the carriage as it passed. Impulsively, because of
the gladness that was so new to her lonely heart, she leaned from the
window and threw him a rupee.

Looking back upon the journey later, she never remembered its tedium.
She was as one borne on the wings of love, and she s