He smiled his tolerant amus.e.m.e.nt. "My dear little woman, that wasn't the point of my enquiry."

Daisy stiffened. She suddenly began to sew very fast indeed, without speaking. Her pretty lips were compressed, but Hunt-Goring seemed sublimely unconscious of the fact. He smiled to himself as at some inward thought.

"You did say his name was Wyndham, I think?" he said, after a moment.

"I did," said Daisy.

"There was a fellow of the same name who lived at Weir," observed Hunt-Goring. "He was the doctor's a.s.sistant; had to leave in something of a hurry, I believe. There was the beginning of a scandal, but it was hushed up--strangled at birth, so to speak."

"What?" said Daisy. She looked across at him swiftly, her dignity and work alike forgotten.

Hunt-Goring still smiled placidly. "I daresay it might be described as a regrettable incident. It concerned the sudden death of a young girl at which event the said Dr. Wyndham presided. I really shouldn't have mentioned it if it hadn't been for the familiarity of the name."

"They are brothers," said Daisy.

"Really! That is strange." Again Hunt-Goring barely concealed a yawn.

"Olga Ratcliffe used to be somewhat smitten with the young man in what I might call her calf days. Doubtless she has got over that by now, especially as the girl who died was a friend of hers."

"But she can't know of that!" said Daisy quickly. "She has been very ill, you know--an illness brought on by the shock of it all."

"Indeed!" said Hunt-Goring, and became significantly silent.

Daisy continued to look at him. "She has not got over it," she said slowly at length, speaking as though uttering her thoughts aloud. "He is out here now, arrived only last week. And--they are engaged to be married."

"_Chacun a son gout!_" observed Hunt-Goring.

She made a sharp movement of impatience. "Oh, don't be so cold-blooded!

Tell me--do tell me--the whole story!"

"My dear Daisy," said Hunt-Goring daringly, "there is practically nothing more to tell."

"But there must be," Daisy argued, ignoring side-issues. "How did the gossip arise? There is never smoke without some fire."

"True," said Hunt-Goring. "But for the truth of the gossip I will not vouch. It ran in this wise. The girl was beautiful--and gay. The man--well, you have had some experience of the species; you know what they are. Trouble arose; there was madness in the girl's family. She became demented; and a certain magic draught did the rest. It was risky of course; but it was a choice of evils. He chose the surest means of protecting his reputation--which, I believe, is considered valuable in his profession."

"Oh, it isn't possible!" protested Daisy. "It simply can't be. How did you hear all this?"

Hunt-Goring laughed. "How does one ever hear anything? I told you I didn't vouch for the truth of it."

"I wonder what I ought to do," said Daisy.

"Do?" He looked at her. "What do you contemplate doing? Is it up to you to do anything?"

Daisy scarcely saw or heard him. "I am thinking of little Olga. She is engaged to him. She--can't know of this evil tale."

"She probably does," said Hunt-Goring. "They were very intimate--she and Violet Campion."

"It isn't possible," Daisy said again. "Why, I believe she was actually with the poor girl when she died. Nick told me a little. He said it had been very sudden and a severe shock to her."

"I should say it was," said Hunt-Goring.

She looked at him. "You were there at the time?"

"I was at The Warren--yes." He spoke with an easy air of unconcern.

Daisy leaned towards him. "And Nick--do you think Nick knew?"

Hunt-Goring looked straight back at her. "I think," he said deliberately, "that I should scarcely trouble to tackle Nick on the subject. He knows exactly what it suits him to know."

"What do you mean?" Daisy spoke sharply, nervously.

"Merely that he and the young man are--and always have been--hand and glove," explained Hunt-Goring smoothly. "Nick is a very charming person no doubt, but--"

"Be careful!" warned Daisy.

He made her a smiling bow. "But," he repeated with emphasis, "he is not sentimentally particular in a matter of ethics. He looks to the end rather than the means. Also you must remember he is a man and not a woman. A man's outlook is different."

"Do you mean that Nick would overlook a thing of this kind?" asked Daisy.

Hunt-Goring nodded thoughtfully. "I think he would condone many things that you would regard as inexcusable, even monstrous. Otherwise, he would scarcely have been selected for his present job."

Daisy was silent.

"And you must remember," Hunt-Goring proceeded, "that this young Wyndham is a rising man--a desirable _parti_ for any girl. He will probably never make another blunder of that description. It is too risky, especially for a man who means to climb to the top of the tree."

"You really think it possible then that Nick knows?" Daisy still looked doubtful.

"I think it more than possible." Hunt-Goring spoke with confidence. "I am sorry if it shocks you, but, you know, he is really too shrewd a person not to know current gossip and its origin."

This was a straight shot, and it told. Daisy acknowledged it without argument.

"But Olga!" she said. "Olga can't know."

"Perhaps not," admitted Hunt-Goring. "And--in that case--it would be advisable to leave her in ignorance; would it not?"

He took out another cigarette with the words, flinging her a sidelong glance as he did it.

But Daisy was silent, looking straight before her.

"Surely," said Hunt-Goring, through a cloud of aromatic smoke, "whether there is anything in the tale or not, the fewer that know of it--the better."

"Oh, I don't know." Daisy spoke as if compelled. "No woman ought to be married blindfold. It is too great a risk."

Hunt-Goring leaned back again in his chair. "If I were in your place, I should maintain a discreet silence," he said.

"I don't think you would," said Daisy.

He inhaled a long breath of smoke. "If I didn't, I should approach the girl herself--find out what she knows--and, with great discretion, put her on her guard. I don't think you would gain much by opening up the matter in any other quarter."