“Nick!” she protested, with burning cheeks.  “It’s very horrid of you to laugh.  Do you know what it is?”

“I can almost guess,” he said, as a small leather case emerged from the paper.  “I’ve seen ’em before.”

Olga opened the case.  It was lined with white velvet, and in the centre of it there flashed and glittered a diamond and emerald ring.

“Hullo!” said Nick.

Olga looked up at him with gleaming eyes.  “Nick!  How—­how dare he!”

“It is pretty daring certainly,” agreed Nick.  “It’s a valuable trifle—­that.”

Olga closed the case with a resolute snap.  “I shall send it back at once.”

“Hadn’t you better read the dedication?” suggested Nick.

She took up the strip of paper, stretched it out, frowned at it.  The writing on this also was minute.  After a moment she read it out. “’Dum spiro spero.  N.W.’ Just as I thought!”

“Do you know what it means?” asked Nick.

She shook her head vigorously.  “And I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, that’s a pity,” he said.  “Pray let me enlighten your ignorance.  It means, ’While I breathe I hope’—­a very proper sentiment which does the young man infinite credit.”

“I can’t imagine how you can laugh,” said Olga fierily, tearing the strip to fragments.  “Can’t you see I’m really angry?”

“My dear child, that’s why!” chuckled Nick.  “It’s the best thing I’ve seen for a long time.  The young man has all my gratitude.  He has done more for my little pal than I with the best intentions could ever do myself.”

She stretched out her hand to him then with a little smile.  “Nick, you silly old boy!  Well, tell me what to do!”

“Quite sure you don’t like him?” questioned Nick.

“No.  I do like him.”  Olga’s smile deepened.  “But I think it was outrageous of him to send me this thing.  And I shall have to tell him so.”

“I should,” said Nick.  “You will have ample opportunities when we get to Khantali.  Take the thing with you and give it back to him there.  Afterwards, if it seems necessary, I’ll tell him to moderate the pace if you like.  But the boy’s a gentleman.  I don’t think it will be necessary.”  He smiled at her quizzically.  “I knew it was coming, Olga mia.  I can smell a love affair fifty miles away.  But I shouldn’t be persuaded to have him if I were you.  He’s altogether too young for matrimony by about ten years.  Let him wait for Peggy Musgrave to grow up.  He will be of a marriageable age by that time.”

Olga laughed, and turned to her other parcels.  Nick’s worldly wisdom struck her as being a little funny when she knew herself to be so infinitely wiser than he.

She found the two remaining packets to contain presents from the Musgraves, some beautiful Indian embroidery from Daisy and a pair of little Hindu gods in carved ivory from Will.  Nick stopped to admire these, and then betook himself to his own room to dress.