“Really?” Daisy Musgrave was keenly interested.  “But why?”

He shook his head.  “You had better ask Lady Bassett.  It may be because I had the misfortune to set fire to her once.  It is true I extinguished her afterwards, but I don’t think she enjoyed it.  It was a humiliating process.  Besides, it spoilt her dress.”

“But she is always so gracious to you,” protested Daisy.

“Honey-sweet.  That’s exactly how I know her cobra feelings.  And that brings me round to Muriel Roscoe again, and the favour I have to ask.”

Daisy shot him a sudden shrewd glance.  “Do you want to marry her?” she asked him point blank.

Nick’s colourless eyebrows went up till they nearly met his colourless hair.  “Dearest Daisy,” he said, “you are a genius.  I mean to do that very thing.”

Daisy got up and softly closed the window.  “Surely she is very young,” she said.  “Is she in love with you?”

She did not turn at the sound of his laugh.  She had almost expected it.  For she knew Nick Ratcliffe as very few knew him.  The bond of sympathy between them was very strong.

“Can you imagine any girl falling in love with me?” he asked.

“Of course I can.  You are not so unique as that.  There isn’t a man in the universe that some woman couldn’t be fool enough to love.”

“Many thanks!” said Nick.  “Then—­I may count upon your support, may I?  I know Lady Bassett will put a spoke in my wheel if she can.  But I have Sir Reginald’s consent.  He is Muriel’s guardian, you know.  Also, I had her father’s approval in the first place.  It has got to be soon, you see, Daisy.  The present state of affairs is unbearable.  She will be miserable with Lady Bassett.”

Daisy still stood with her back to him.  She was fidgeting with the blind-cord, her pretty face very serious.

“I am not sure,” she said slowly, “that it lies in my power to help you.  Of course I am willing to do my best, because, as you say, we are pals.  But, Nick, she is very young.  And if—­if she really doesn’t love you, you mustn’t ask me to persuade her.”

Nick sprang up impulsively.  “Oh, but you don’t understand,” he said quickly.  “She would be happy enough with me.  I would see to that.  I—­I would be awfully good to her, Daisy.”

She turned swiftly at the unwonted quiver in his voice.  “My dear Nick,” she said earnestly, “I am sure of it.  You could make any woman who loved you happy.  But no one—­no one—­knows the misery that may result from a marriage without love on both sides—­except those who have made one.”

There was something almost passionate in her utterance.  But she turned if off quickly with a smile and a friendly hand upon his arm.

“Come,” she said lightly.  “I want to show you my boy.  I left him almost in tears.  But he always smiles when he sees his mother.”

“Who doesn’t?” said Nick gallantly, following her lead.