“Oh, Nick,” she faltered weakly, “why don’t they—­pull down the blinds?”

Nick turned aside, still closely holding her, into the room in which she had rested for the earlier part of the night.

“Because, thank God,” he said, “there is no need.  Olga is going to live.”

He helped her down into an easy-chair, and would have left her; but she clung to him still, weakly but persistently.

“Oh, Nick, don’t laugh!  Tell me the truth for once!  Please, Nick, please!”

He yielded to her so abruptly that she was half-startled, dropping suddenly down upon his knees beside her, the morning light full upon his face.

“I am telling you the truth,” he said.  “I believe you have saved her life.  She has been sleeping ever since sunrise.”

Muriel gazed at him speechlessly; but she no longer suspected him of trying to deceive her.  If he had never told her the truth before that moment he was telling it to her then.

She gave a little gasping cry of relief unspeakable, and hid her face.  The next moment Nick was on his feet.  She heard his quick, light step as he crossed the threshold, and realised thankfully that he had left her alone.

A little later, a servant brought her a breakfast-tray with a message from the master of the house to the effect that he hoped she would go to bed and take a long rest.

It was excellent advice, and she acted upon it; for since the worst strain was over, sleep had become an urgent necessity to her.  She wondered as she lay down if Nick were following the same course.  She hoped he was, for she had a curiously vivid memory of the lines that sleeplessness had drawn about his eyes.

It was late afternoon when she awoke, and sat swiftly up with a confused sense of being watched.

“Don’t jump like that!” a gruff voice said.  “Lie down again at once.  You are not to get up till to-morrow morning.”

She turned with a shaky laugh of welcome to find Dr. Jim seated frowning by her side.  He laid a compelling hand upon her shoulder.

“Lie down again, do you hear?  There’s nothing for you to do.  Olga is much better, and doesn’t want you.”

“And Nick?” said Muriel.

They were the first words that occurred to her.  She said them hurriedly, with heightened colour.

Jim Ratcliffe frowned more than ever.  He was feeling her pulse.  “A nice couple of idiots you are!” he grimly remarked.  “You needn’t worry about Nick.  He has gone for a ride.  As soon as he comes back, he will dine and go to bed.”

“Can’t I get up to dinner?” Muriel suggested.

She could scarcely have said why she made the proposal, and she was certainly surprised when Jim Ratcliffe fell in with it.  He looked at his watch.  “Well, you may if you like.  You will probably sleep the better for it.  But I’ll have no nonsense, mind, Muriel.  You’re to do as you’re told.”