Daisy was growing stronger, and was beginning to contemplate a change, moved at last by Jim Ratcliffe’s persistent urging.  There was a cottage at Brethaven which, he declared, would suit her exactly.  Muriel raised no objection to the plan.  She knew it would be for Daisy’s benefit, but her heart sank whenever she thought of it.  She was glad when early in June Blake came back to them for a few days before starting on a round of visits.

He approved of the Brethaven plan warmly, and he and Muriel rode over one morning to the little seaside village to make arrangements.  Muriel said no more to him upon the subject of Nick.  On this one point she had come to know that it was vain to look for sympathy.  He had promised to help her indeed, but he simply did not understand her nervous shrinking from the man.  Moreover, Nick had made it so abundantly evident that he had no intention of thrusting himself upon her that there could be no ground for fear on that score.  Besides, was not her engagement her safeguard?

As for Blake, her silence upon the matter made him hope that she was getting over her almost childish panic.  With all the goodwill in the world, he could not see that his presence as watch-dog was required.

Yet, as they turned from the cottage on the shore with their errand accomplished, he did say after some hesitation, “Of course, if for any reason you should want me when I am away, you must let me know.  I would come at once.”

She thanked him with a heightened colour, and he had a feeling that his allusion had been unwelcome.  They rode up from the beach in silence.

Turning a sharp corner towards the village where they proposed to lunch, they came suddenly upon a motor stationary by the roadside.  A whoop of cheery recognition greeted them before either of them realised that it was occupied, and they discovered Nick seated on the step, working with his one hand at the foot-brake.  Olga was with him, endeavouring to assist.

Nick’s face grinned welcome impartially to the newcomers.  “Hullo!  This is luck.  Delighted to see you.  Grange, my boy, here’s a little job exactly suited to your Herculean strength.  Climb down like a good fellow, and lend a hand.”

Grange glanced at Muriel, and with a slight shrug handed her his bridle.  “I’m not much good at this sort of thing,” he remarked, as he dismounted.

“Never thought you were for a moment,” responded Nick.  “But I suppose you can do as you’re told at a pinch.  This filthy thing has got jammed.  It’s too tough a job for a single-handed pigmy like me.”  He glanced quizzically up at Muriel with the last remark, but she quickly averted her eyes, bending to speak to Olga at the same instant.