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." "What's the fellow's name?" asked Will. Daisy turned again to the signature. "Merton Hunt-Goring. He was a major in the Sappers, but he has retired now, he says. He can't be very young. He was no chicken in those days. I didn't really like him, you know; but he amused me." Will smiled. "Poor darling! Your bore of a husband never did that." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "Dear old duffer! When are we going for that honeymoon of ours? And what shall we do with Peggy? Don't say we've got to wait till she is safely married to Noel!" Will's eyes opened. Never since Peggy's birth had Peggy's mother tolerated the possibility of leaving her. He had always believed that her whole soul centred in the child, and he had been content to believe it; such was the greatness of his love. "You would never bear to leave Peggy behind," he said.