Nick took up his riding-switch. "It's a tricky climate," he observed, "but I am keeping an eye on the weather. I don't anticipate anything of the nature of a heat-wave at present." Max grunted. "Are you sure your barometer is a trustworthy one?" Nick smiled. "I have every reason to believe so." He turned and clapped a kindly hand on Max's shoulder. "All right, old chap. Don't be anxious! I'll take care of her," he said. Max looked at him. "You had better take care of yourself too," he said. "Trust me!" laughed Nick. There came a knock at the door, to which Kasur responded. It was Olga's _ayah_. A few whispered words passed between them, then the _khitmutgar_ softly closed it and approached Nick. "Miss _sahib_ is tired this morning, and cannot ride with the _sahibs_. She asks that you will go to her, _sahib_, before you leave." Nick glanced at Max. "You had better come too." But Max shook his head. "No. I'll be on the verandah if she wants me, but I don't think she will." Nick went to the door in silence; but ere he reached it Max spoke again. "Nick!" "Well?" Nick paused as if reluctant. Very deliberately Max followed him. They stood face to face. "You will remember what I have said," Max said, with slow emphasis. "I'm not very likely to forget it," said Nick. "And you will abstain from interference in this matter?" Max's voice was emotionless, but it had a certain quality of compulsion notwithstanding. Nick's eyes darted over him. His whole frame stiffened slightly. "If you think I am going to bind myself hand and foot by a promise, you're mistaken," he said. "I am only asking you to let matters take their course," said Max, unmoved. "Circumstances may make that impossible," said Nick. "They may. In that case, you are free to act as you think fit. But I don't think they will--and--damn it, Nick, it isn't much to ask. It's for her sake." A tinge of feeling suddenly underran his speech. He flushed slowly and deeply; but he stood his ground. As for Nick, he turned again to the door with his switch tucked under his arm. "All right," he said. "I accept the amendment." He was gone with the words, almost as though he feared he had already yielded too far. Probably to no other man would he have yielded a single inch. The interview had ended in a fashion extremely distasteful to him, yet he entered Olga's presence cheerily, with no sign of discontent. "Hullo, my chicken! Not riding this morning? Haven't you slept?" He sat down on the bed with Olga's arms very tightly round his neck, and prepared himself to make the best of a very bad business. The night before he had soothed her in the midst of her distress with all a mother's tenderness, but by daylight he discarded the maternal _role_ and resumed his masculine limitations.