"I should do my utmost to make her happy," he answered.
She glanced up momentarily. "I wonder if you would succeed," she murmured.
For a single instant their eyes met. Daisy's fell away at once, and the firelight showed a swift deepening of colour on her face.
As for Blake, he stood quite stiff for a few seconds, then with an abruptness of movement unusual with him, he knelt suddenly down beside her.
"Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded strained, almost hoarse, "you're not vexed about it? You don't mind my marrying? It isn't—you know—it isn't—as if—"
He broke off, for Daisy had jerked upright as if at the piercing of a nerve. She looked at him fully, with blazing eyes. "How can you be so ridiculous, Blake?" she exclaimed, with sharp impatience. "That was all over and done with long, long ago, and you know it. Besides, even if it hadn't been, I'm not a dog in the manger. Surely you know that too. Oh, go away, and don't be absurd!"
She put her hand against his shoulder, and gave him a small but vehement push.
He stood up again immediately, but he did not look hurt, and the expression of loyalty in his eyes never wavered.
There was a short pause before Daisy spoke again.
"Well," she said, with a brief sigh, "I suppose it's no good crying over spilt milk, but I wish you had chosen any girl in the world but Muriel, Blake; I do indeed. You will have to write to Sir Reginald Bassett. He is her guardian, subject to his wife's management. Perhaps she will approve of you. She hated Nick for some reason."