Olga had just finished pulling a daisy to pieces. She tossed it away at Nick's approach, and sprang to meet him.
"It's very disappointing," she declared. "It's the fourth time I've done it, and it always comes the same. I've been making the daisies tell Muriel's fortune, and it always comes to 'He would if he could, but he can't.' You try this time, Nick."
"All right. You hold the daisy," said Nick.
Muriel looked up with a slightly heightened colour. "I think we ought to be going," she remarked.
"We have just ordered the horses for four o'clock," Grange said apologetically.
She glanced at the watch on her wrist—half-past three. Nick, seated cross-legged on the grass in front of her, had already, with Olga's able assistance, begun his game.
Swiftly the tiny petals fell from his fingers. He was very intent, and in spite of herself Muriel became intent too, held by a most unaccountable fascination. So handicapped was he that he could not even pull a flower to pieces without assistance. And yet—
Suddenly he looked across at her. "He loves her!" he announced.
"Oh, Nick!" exclaimed Olga reproachfully. "You cheated! You pulled off two!"
"He usually does cheat," Muriel observed, plucking a flower of grass and regarding it with absorption.