Peggy did not understand him at all, and was deeply hurt by her cavalier’s defection.  She did think he might have said good-bye to her before he went.

Will, meeting them at the gate of their own compound, laughed down his small daughter’s grievance.  “Do you really suppose he could remember a midget like you?” he asked, as he tossed her on to his shoulder.  “You expect too much of us, my baby.”

“You wouldn’t have goed away like that, Daddy,” she protested, locking her small fingers lovingly under his chin.

“Ah, well, I’m old, you see,” said Will.  “I’ve learned how to please—­or should I say how not to displease?—­you sensitive ladies.”

“Did Mummy teach you?” asked Peggy with interest.

Will laughed with his eyes on his wife’s face.  “On that subject,” he said, “she taught me absolutely all I know.”

Daisy smiled in return.  “I set you some hard lessons, didn’t I, Will?” she said.  “Why, how late we are!  I had no idea the evening mail was in.  Peggy, run to ayah, darling!  Only one letter for me!  Who on earth is it from?”

She took it up and inspected the handwriting on the envelope.

“It’s a bold enough scrawl,” said Will.  “Some male acquaintance apparently.”

“No one interesting, I am sure,” said Daisy.

She opened the envelope as she stood, withdrew the letter, and glanced at the signature.

The next instant she flushed suddenly and hotly.  “That man!” she ejaculated.

“What man?” said Will.

She turned to the beginning of the letter.  “Oh, it’s no one you know, dear.  A man I met long ago at Mahalaleshwar—­that time you were at Bombay, soon after we married.  He was a shocking flirt.  So was I—­in those days.  But he got too serious at last, and I had to cut and run.  I daresay there wasn’t any real harm in him.  It was probably all my own fault.  It always is the woman’s fault, isn’t it?”

She twined her arm in his, looking up into his face with a little smile, half-mocking, half-wistful.

He stooped to kiss her.  “Well, what does the bounder want?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she said.  “Simply, he finds himself in this direction after big game, and, having heard of our being here, he wants to know if we will put him up for a night or two—­for the sake of old times, he has the effrontery to add.”

“Do you want him?” asked Will, the echo of a fighting note in his voice.

She smiled again as she heard it.  “No, not particularly.  I am really indifferent.  But I think it would look rather silly to refuse, don’t you?  Besides, it would be good for him to see how old and staid I have become.”

Will looked slightly grim.  Nevertheless, he did not argue the point.  “All right, Daisy.  Do as you think best!” he said.

She returned to her letter, still holding his arm.  “That’s very wise of you, Will,” she said softly.  “Then I suppose I shall write and tell him to come.”