“She!” Daisy’s voice had a sudden hard ring in it.  “She remained faithful to him for just six months.  And then she married an Englishman.  It was said that she did it against her will.  Still she did it.  Luckily for her, perhaps, she died within the year—­when her child was born.”

Daisy rose abruptly and moved across the room.  “That was more than a hundred years ago,” she said, “and women are as great fools still.  If they can’t marry the man they love—­they’ll marry—­anything.”

Muriel was silent.  She felt as if she had caught sight of something that she had not been intended to see.

But in a moment Daisy came back, and, kneeling beside her, slipped the ring on to her finger again.  “Yet love conquers 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.”