He took up his stand on the hearthrug
before he spoke.
"You are not far wrong, Daisy," he said then.
She answered him lightly as ever. "I never am, my dear Blake. Surely
you must have noticed it. Well, am I to be let into the plot, or not?"
He looked at her for a moment uneasily. "Of course we shall tell you,"
he said. "It--it's not a thing we could very well keep to ourselves
for any length of time."
A sudden gleam of understanding flashed into Daisy's upturned face,
and instantly her expression changed. With a swift, vehement movement
she sprang up and stood before him.
"Blake!" she exclaimed, and in her voice astonishment, dismay, and
even reproach were mingled.
He averted his eyes from hers. "Won't you congratulate me, Daisy?" he
said, speaking almost under his breath.
Daisy had turned very white. She put out both hands, and leaned upon
the mantelpiece.
"But, my dear Blake," she said, after a moment, "she is not for you."
"What do you mean?" Grange's jaw suddenly set itself. He squared
his great shoulders as if instinctively bracing himself to meet
opposition.
"I mean"--Daisy spoke very quietly and emphatically--"I mean, Blake,
that she is Nick's property. She belonged to Nick before ever you
thought of wanting her. I never dreamed that you would do anything
so shabby as to step in at the last moment, just when Nick is coming
home, and cut him out.
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