He patted her arm coaxingly, reassuringly, and Hunt-Goring took out his cigarette-case. He was plainly bored to extinction. Daisy left him with a smiling apology. She did not suggest that he should accompany them, and he did not offer to do so. "I don't like that man," declared Peggy as Noel bore her away. "He looks so ugly when he smiles." "Only the Daisies and Peggies of this world manage to look pretty always," observed Noel gallantly. For which dainty compliment Daisy frowned upon him. "My vanity days are over," she said, "but do remember that hers are yet to come!" They went round to the front of the bungalow where Noel had left the mounts; and after a good deal of discussion and many injunctions Peggy was, to her huge delight, perched astride the Chimpanzee, a creature of almost human intelligence who plainly took a serious view of his responsibilities, to Daisy's immense relief. She watched them ride away together at length at a walking pace, Noel on his tall Waler leading the polo-pony, from whose back Peggy waved her an ardent farewell; and finally went back to her guest feeling reassured. Noel evidently had no intention of taking any risks with Peggy in his charge. "It's very good of him," she remarked, as she sat down again on the verandah. Hunt-Goring opened his eyes a quarter of an inch. "I beg your pardon?" "Oh, nothing," said Daisy, feeling slightly annoyed. "He's a nice boy, that's all; and I am grateful to him for being so kind to my little Peggy." "It probably answers his purpose," said Hunt-Goring, smothering a yawn. Daisy took up her work again in silence. Hunt-Goring finished his cigarette in dreamy ease before he spoke again. She thought he was half-asleep when unexpectedly he accosted her, referring to the subject in which he had seemed to take but slight interest. "Did you say that puppy's name was Wyndham?" "He isn't a puppy," said Daisy, quick to defend her friend. He smiled his tolerant amusement. "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 assistant; 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."