"You did quite right to tell me," she said. "It is something that I certainly ought to know."

Her face was deathly, but she smiled bravely into Daisy's troubled eyes.

"My dear, my dear," Daisy said in distress, "I do pray that I haven't done wrong."

"You haven't," Olga said. "It was dear of you to tell me, and I'm very grateful."

She kissed Daisy very lovingly and let her go. There was nothing tragic in her manner, only an unwonted aloofness that kept the elder woman from attempting to pursue the subject.

The return of Noel a few minutes later was a relief to them both. He came in full of animation and merriment, precipitating himself upon them with a gaiety that overlooked all silences. As Daisy was wont to say, Noel was the most useful person she knew for filling in tiresome gaps.

He did it instinctively, without so much as seeing them.

In his cheery company the rest of the evening slid lightly by. Olga encouraged him to be frivolous. She seemed to enjoy his society more than she had ever done before; and Noel was nothing loth to be encouraged.

When the card-players joined them, they were busily engaged in drawing up a programme for what Noel termed "the Ba.s.sett week," and so absorbed were they that they did not so much as glance up till Nick came between them and demanded to know what it was all about.

Max, cynically tolerant, looked on from afar; and Daisy, who had been feeling somewhat conscience-stricken at his entrance, rapidly found herself detesting him more heartily than ever. She was glad when Major Hunt-Goring drifted to her side and engaged her in conversation, and she more nearly resumed her old intimacy with him in consequence than she had done before.

The party broke up late, as Olga, Noel, and Nick continued their discussion until their elaborate schemes were complete. By that time Max and his host had retired for a final smoke, and had to be unearthed by Nick, who declared himself scandalized to find anyone still up at such an immoral hour.

Olga was standing with Noel, dressed for departure, waiting to go, when Hunt-Goring sauntered up to her.

"Well, Miss Ratcliffe," he said conversationally, "and how do you like India?"

It was the first time he had deliberately accosted her. She glanced up at him sharply, and made a slight, instinctive movement away from him.

At once, albeit almost imperceptibly, Noel moved a little nearer to her.

She was conscious of his intention to protect, and threw him a brief smile as she made reply.

"I am enjoying it very much."

"Really!" said Hunt-Goring. "And you are engaged to be married, I hear?"

Olga did not instantly reply. It was Noel who answered shortly: "Yes, to my brother. No objection, I suppose?"

It was aggressively spoken. Noel had quite obviously taken a dislike to the newcomer, a sentiment which Olga knew to be instantly reciprocated by the calm fashion in which Hunt-Goring ignored his intervention.

She found him waiting markedly for her reply, and braced herself to enter the arena. "Is it news to you?" she asked coldly.

He laughed his soft, hateful laugh. "Well, scarcely, since you, yourself, informed me of the approaching event some months before it took place."

Noel made a slight gesture of surprise, and the colour rose in a hot wave to Olga's face; but she looked steadily at Hunt-Goring and said nothing.

He went on, smoothly satirical. "I used to think the odds were in favour of Miss Campion, you know. You will pardon me for saying that I don't think there are many girls who could have cut her out."

Olga's face froze to a marble immobility. "There was no question of that," she said.

"No?" Hunt-Goring's urbanity scarcely covered his incredulity. "I fancied she took the opposite view. Well, well, the poor girl is dead and out of the running. I consider Max Wyndham is a very lucky man."

He spoke with significance and Noel's eyes, jealously watching Olga's face, saw her flinch ever so slightly. A hot wave of anger rose within him; his hands clenched. He turned upon Hunt-Goring.

"If you have anything offensive to say," he said, in a furious undertone, "say it to me, you d.a.m.ned coward!"

Hunt-Goring looked at him at last. "I beg your pardon?" he said.

Noel was on the verge of repeating his remark when, quick as a flash, Olga turned and caught his arm.

"Noel, please, please!" she gasped breathlessly. "Not here! Not now!"

He attempted to resist her, but she would not be resisted. With all her strength she pulled him away, her hands tightly clasped upon his arm.

And it was thus that they came face to face with Max, sauntering in ahead of his host.

He glanced at them both, but showed no surprise, though both Olga's agitation and Noel's anger were very apparent.

"Look here, you two," he said, "Nick and I can't be kept waiting any longer. We value our beauty-sleep if you don't. And Mr. Musgrave is longing to see the last of us."

"Not at all," said Will courteously. "But Nick has suddenly developed a violent hurry to be gone. My wife is trying to pacify him, but she won't hold him in for long."

"Let us go!" said Olga. She took her hand from Noel's arm, but looked at him appealingly.

"All right," he said gruffly. "I suppose I had better go too."

"High time, I should say," observed his brother. "Good-night!"

Noel did not look at him or respond. He turned aside without a word, and left the room.

Max made no further comment of any sort, but Olga was aware of his green eyes studying her closely. Like Noel she avoided them. She shook hands hurriedly with Will, and went out to Nick and Daisy.

As Max turned to follow her, she heard Hunt-Goring's smiling voice behind him. "Good-bye, Dr. Wyndham! Delighted to have met you again--you and your _fiancee_. I have just been congratulating Miss Olga on her conquest."

Max went out as though the sneering words had not reached him, but his face was so grim when he said good-bye to Daisy that she felt almost too guilty to look at him. She held Olga to her very closely at the last, and saw her go with a pa.s.sionate regret. Whether she had acted rightly or wrongly she did not know; but she felt that she had wrecked the girl's happiness, and the spontaneity of Olga's answering embrace did not rea.s.sure her.

CHAPTER XVI

THE GAP

"Now, my chicken, to roost!" said Nick.

He turned to give her his paternal embrace, but paused as Olga very slightly drew back from it.

They stood in the dining-room which they had entered on arrival. Max had lounged across to the mantelpiece, and propped himself against it in his favourite att.i.tude. He looked on as it were from afar.

"Please," Olga said rather breathlessly, and she addressed Nick as though he were the only person in the room, "I want to ask you something before we say good-night."

"Something private?" asked Nick.