a nymph of the heath,
irresponsible and self-indulgent, taking what she could get of comfort
and cherishing, and finding a boundless appetite for it. It was
something, perhaps, to know in her heart that every man in the party
was in love with her; it was much more--for the moment at least--to be
without conscience in the matter. She had put her conscience to sleep
for once, drugged it with poppy and drowsy syrups, and led the life of
a healthy and vigorous animal.

Urquhart enjoyed that; he was content to wait and watch. For the time
James did not perceive it. The beauty and freshness of this new world
was upon him. Francis Lingen, born to cling, threw out tentative
tendrils to Margery Dacre.

Margery Dacre was a very pretty girl; she had straw-coloured hair and
a bright complexion. She wore green, especially in the water. Urquhart
called her Undine, and she was mostly known as the Mermaid. She had
very little mind, but excellent manners; and was expensive without
seeming to spend anything. For instance, she brought no maid, because
she thought that it might have looked ostentatious, and always made
use of Lucy's, who didn't really want one. That was how Margery Dacre
contrived to seem very simple.

For the moment Urquhart took natural command. He knew the country, he
owned the motor-boat; he believed that he owned Lucy, and he believed
that James was rather a fool. He thought that he had got the better of
James. But this could not last, because James was no more of a fool
than he was himself, though his intelligence worked in a different
way. Things flashed upon Urquhart, who then studied them intensely and
missed nothing. They dawned on James, who leisurely absorbed them, and
allowed them to work out their own development.

It was very gradually now dawning upon James that Urquhart had assumed
habits of guidance over Lucy and was not aware of any reason why he
should relinquish them. He believed that he understood her thoroughly;
he read her as a pliant, gentle nature, easily imposed upon, and
really at the mercy of any unscrupulous man who was clever enough to
see how she should be treated. He had never thought that before. It
was the result of his cogitations over recent events. So while he kept
his temper and native jealousy under easy control, he watched
comfortably--as well he might--and gained amusement, as he could well
afford to do, from Urquhart's marital assumptions. When he was tempted
to interfere, or