diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 05:19:07 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 05:19:07 -0800 |
| commit | e0e91048045d0c301c4b5d0c80ea5fed8424b90b (patch) | |
| tree | ced3a5b4c12a52b58f3b8220878e04163fac9817 | |
| parent | fabc9a1383c94dd895636fd11801a3e68f58d985 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-0.txt | 396 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-0.zip | bin | 72010 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-8.txt | 3511 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-8.zip | bin | 71897 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-h.zip | bin | 78451 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-h/37467-h.htm (renamed from 37467-h/37467-h.html) | 357 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-rst.zip | bin | 72841 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467-rst/37467-rst.rst | 4443 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467.txt | 3511 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37467.zip | bin | 71887 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 4 insertions, 12214 deletions
diff --git a/37467-0.txt b/37467-0.txt index 4e116bf..e2bb9f6 100644 --- a/37467-0.txt +++ b/37467-0.txt @@ -1,25 +1,4 @@ - DAISY THORNTON - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: Daisy Thornton - -Author: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes - -Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37467] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37467 *** Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. @@ -3127,375 +3106,4 @@ BY G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers, New York. - - - - - *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the Project -Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered -trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you -receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of -this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this -eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, -reports, performances and research. They may be modified and printed and -given away – you may do practically _anything_ with public domain -eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially -commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you -paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this -agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you -paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help -preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See -paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in -the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works -by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms -of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated -with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others. - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the -copyright status of any work in any country outside the United States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on -which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase -“Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, -viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with - almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away - or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License - included with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with -the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, -you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through -1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless -you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you - already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to - the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to - donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 - days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally - required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments - should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, - “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary - Archive Foundation.” - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. - You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the - works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and - all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth -in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from both the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael Hart, the -owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability -to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE -THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF -WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. -YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR -UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, -INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE -NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ - - -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals -and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely -available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn -more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how -your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. - -The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the -number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with -the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook’s eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to -our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37467 *** diff --git a/37467-0.zip b/37467-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fcc23af..0000000 --- a/37467-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/37467-8.txt b/37467-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6e1c3df..0000000 --- a/37467-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3511 +0,0 @@ - DAISY THORNTON - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: Daisy Thornton - -Author: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes - -Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37467] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. - - BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES, - - AUTHOR OF - _Tempest and Sunshine.--'Lena Rivers.--Darkness and Daylight._ - _--Marian Grey.--English Orphans.--Hugh Worthington.--Millbank._ - _--Ethelyn's Mistake.--Edna Browning, Etc., Etc._ - - "Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder." - - NEW YORK: - Copyright, 1878, by - _G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers_. - - LONDON: S. LOW & CO. - - MDCCCLXXX. - - _Samuel Stodder_, - _Stereotyper_, - _90 Ann Street, N.Y._ - - - _Trow_ - _Printing and Bookbinding_ - _Company._ - - ---- - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I.--EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER II.--EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER III.--EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER IV.--AUTHOR'S STORY. - CHAPTER V.--THE DIVORCE. - CHAPTER VI.--EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. - CHAPTER VII.--FIVE YEARS LATER. - CHAPTER VIII.--DAISY'S LETTER. - CHAPTER IX.--DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE. - CHAPTER X.--MISS MCDONALD. - CHAPTER XI.--AT SARATOGA. - CHAPTER XII.--IN THE SICK ROOM. - CHAPTER XIII.--DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - ---- - - DAISY THORNTON - - - - -CHAPTER I.--EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL. - - - Elmwood, June 15th, 18--. - -I have been working among my flowers all the morning, digging, weeding -and transplanting, and then stopping a little to rest. My roses are -perfect beauties this year, while my white lilies are the wonder of the -town, and yet my heart was not with them to-day, and it was nothing to -me that those fine people from the Towers came into the grounds while I -was at work, "just to see and admire," they said, adding that there was -no place in Cuylerville like Elmwood. I know that, and Guy and I have -been so happy here, and I loved him so much, and never dreamed what was -in store for me until it came suddenly like a heavy blow. - -Why should he wish to marry, when he has lived to be thirty years old -without a care of any kind, and has money enough to allow him to indulge -his taste for books, and pictures, and travel, and is respected by -everybody, and looked up to as the first man in town, and petted and -cared for by me as few brothers have ever been petted and cared for? and -if he must marry, why need he take a child of sixteen, whom he has only -known since Christmas, and whose sole recommendation, so far as I can -learn, is her pretty face? - -Daisy McDonald is her name, and she lives in Indianapolis, where her -father is a poor lawyer, and as I have heard, a scheming, unprincipled -man. Guy met her last winter in Chicago, and fell in love at once, and -made two or three journeys West on "important business," he said, and -then, some time in May, told me he was going to bring me a sister, the -sweetest little creature, with beautiful blue eyes and wonderful hair. I -was sure to love her, he said, and when I suggested that she was very -young, he replied that her youth was in her favor, as we could more -easily mould her to the Thornton pattern. - -Little he knows about girls; but then he was perfectly infatuated and -blind to everything but Daisy's eyes, and hair, and voice, which is so -sweet and winning that it will speak for her at once. Then she is so -dainty and refined, he said, and he asked me to see to the furnishing of -the rooms on the west side of the house, the two which communicate with -his own private library, where he spends a great deal of time with his -books and writing. The room adjoining this was to be Daisy's boudoir or -parlor, where she could sit when he was occupied and she wished to be -near him. This was to be fitted up in blue, as she had expressed a wish -to that effect, and he said no expense must be spared to make it as -pretty and attractive as possible. So the walls were frescoed and -tinted, and I spent two entire days in New York hunting for a carpet of -the desirable shade, which should be right both in texture and design. - -Guy was exceedingly particular, and developed a wonderful proclivity to -find fault with everything I admired. Nothing was quite the thing for -Daisy, until at last a manufacturer offered to get a carpet up which was -sure to suit, and so that question was happily settled for the time -being. Then came the furniture, and unlimited orders were given to the -upholsterer to do his best, and matters were progressing finely when -order number two came from the little lady, who was sorry to seem so -fickle, but her mamma, whose taste was perfect, had decided against -_all_ blue, and would Guy please furnish the room with drab trimmed with -blue? - -"It must be a very delicate shade of drab," she wrote, and lest he -should get too intense an idea, she would call it a _tint_ of a _shade_ -of drab, or, better yet, a _hint_ of a tint of a shade of drab would -describe exactly what she meant, and be so entirely unique, and lovely, -and _recherche_. - -Guy never swears, and seldom uses slang of any kind, but this was a -little too much, and with a most rueful expression of countenance he -asked me "what in thunder I supposed a hint of a tint of a shade of drab -could be?" - -I could not enlighten him, and we finally concluded to leave it to the -upholsterer, to whom Guy telegraphed in hot haste, bidding him hunt New -York over for the desired shade. Where he found it I never knew; but -find it he did, or something approximating to it,--a faded, washed-out -color, which seemed a cross between wood-ashes and pale skim milk. A -sample was sent up for Guy's approval, and then the work commenced -again, when order number three came in one of those dainty little -billets which used to make Guy's face radiant with happiness. Daisy had -changed her mind again and gone back to the blue, which she always -preferred as most becoming to her complexion. - -Guy did not say a single word, but he took the next train for New York, -and staid there till the furniture was done and packed for Cuylerville. -As I did not know where he was stopping, I could not forward him two -letters which came during his absence, and which bore the Indianapolis -post-mark. I suspect he had a design in keeping his address from me, -and, whether Daisy changed her mind again or not, I never knew. - -The furniture reached Elmwood the day but one before Guy started for his -bride, and Julia Hamilton, who was then at the Towers, helped me arrange -the room, which is a perfect little gem, and cannot fail to please, I am -sure. I wonder Guy never fancied Julia Hamilton. Oh, if he only had done -so, I should not have as many misgivings as I now have, nor dread the -future so much. Julia is sensible and twenty years old, and lives in -Boston, and comes of a good family, and is every way suitable,--but when -did a man ever choose the woman whom his sister thought suitable for -him? And Guy is like other men, and this is his wedding day; and after a -trip to Montreal, and Quebec, and Boston, and New York, and Saratoga, -they are coming home, and I am to give a grand reception, and then -subside, I suppose, into the position of the "old maid sister who will -be dreadfully in the way." - - ---- - - September 15th, 18--. - -Just three months since I opened my journal, and, on glancing over what -I wrote on Guy's wedding day, I find that in one respect at least I was -unjust to the little creature who is now my sister, and calls me Miss -Frances. Not by a word or look has she shown the least inclination to -assume the position of mistress of the house, nor does she seem to think -me at all in the way; but that she considers me quite an antediluvian I -am certain, for, in speaking of something which happened in 1820, she -asked if I remembered it! And I only three years older than Guy! But -then she once called him a dear old grandfatherly man, and thought it a -good joke that on their wedding tour she was mistaken for his daughter. -She looks so young,--not sixteen even; but with those childish blue -eyes, and that innocent, pleading kind of expression, she never can be -old. She is very beautiful, and I can understand in part Guy's -infatuation, though at times he hardly knows what to do with his pretty -plaything. - -It was the middle of August when they came from Saratoga, sorely against -her wishes, as I heard from the Porters, who were at the same hotel, and -who have told me what a sensation she created, and how much attention -she received. Everybody flattered her, and one evening, when there was -to be a hop at Congress Hall, she received twenty bouquets from as many -different admirers, each of whom asked her hand for the first dance. And -even Guy tried some of the square dances,--with poor success, I imagine, -for Lucy Porter laughed when she told me of it, and the mistakes he -made; and I do not wonder, for my grave, scholarly Guy must be as much -out of place in a ball-room as his little, airy, doll of a wife is in -her place when there. I can understand just how she enjoyed it all, and -how she hated to come to Elmwood, for she did not then know the kind of -home she was coming to. - -It was glorious weather for August, and a rain of the previous day had -washed all the flowers and shrubs, and freshened up the grass on the -lawn, which was just like a piece of velvet, while everything around the -house seemed to laugh in the warm afternoon sunshine as the carriage -came up to the door. Eight trunks, two hat-boxes, and a guitar-case had -come in the morning, and were waiting the arrival of their owner, whose -face looked eagerly out at the house and its surroundings, and it seemed -to me did not light up as much as it should have done under the -circumstances. - -"Why, Guy, I always thought the house was brick," I heard her say, as -the carriage door was opened by the coachman. - -"No, darling,--wood. Ah, there's Fan," was Guy's reply, and the next -moment I had her in my arms. - -Yes, literally in my arms. She is such a wee little thing, and her face -is so sweet, and her eyes so childish and wistful and her voice so -musical and flute-like that before I knew what I was doing I lifted her -from her feet and hugged her hard, and said I meant to love her, first -for Guy's sake, and then for her own. Was it my fancy, I wonder, or did -she really shrink back a little and put up her hands to arrange the -bows, and streamers, and curls floating away from her like the flags on -a vessel on some gala day. - -She was very tired, Guy said, and ought to lie down before dinner. Would -I show her to her room with Zillah, her maid? Then for the first time I -noticed a dark-haired girl who had alighted from the carriage and stood -holding Daisy's traveling-bag and wraps. - -"Her waiting-maid, whom we found in Boston," Guy explained, when we were -alone. "She is so young and helpless, and wanted one so badly, that I -concluded to humor her for a time, especially as I had not the most -remote idea how to pin on those wonderful fixings which she wears. It is -astonishing how many things it takes to make up the _tout ensemble_ of a -fashionable woman," Guy said, and I thought he glanced with an unusual -amount of curiosity and interest at my plain cambric wrapper and smooth -hair. - -Indeed he has taken it upon himself to criticise me somewhat; thinks I -am too slim, as he expresses it, and that my head might be improved if -it had a more snarly appearance. Daisy, of course, stands for his model, -and her hair does not look as if it had been combed in a month, and yet -Zillah spends hours over it. She,--that is, Daisy,--was pleased with her -boudoir, and gave vent to sundry exclamations of delight when she -entered it, skipped around like the child she is, and said she was so -glad it was blue instead of that indescribable drab, and that room is -almost the only thing she has expressed an opinion about since she has -been here. She does not talk much except to Zillah, and then in French, -which I do not understand. If I were to write just what I think I should -say that she had expected a great deal more grandeur than she finds. At -all events, she takes the things which I think very nice and even -elegant as a matter of course, and if we were to set up a style of -living equal to that of the queen's household, I do believe she would -act as if she had been accustomed to it all her life, or, at least, that -it was what she had a right to expect. I know she imagines Guy a great -deal richer than he is; and that reminds me of something which troubles -me. - -Guy has given his name to Dick Trevylian for one hundred thousand -dollars. To be sure it is only for three months, and Dick is worth three -times that amount, and is an old friend and every way reliable and -honest. And still I did not want Guy to sign. I wonder why it is that -women always jump at a conclusion without any apparent reason. Of -course, I could not explain it, but when Guy told me what he was going -to do, I felt in an instant as if he would have it all to pay, and told -him so, but he only laughed at me and called me nervous and fidgety, and -said a friend was good for nothing if he could not lend a helping hand -occasionally. Perhaps that is true, but I was uneasy and shall be glad -when the time is up and the paper canceled. - -Our expenses since Daisy came are double what they were before, and if -we were to lose one hundred thousand dollars now we should be badly off. -Daisy is a luxury Guy has to pay for, but he pays willingly and seems to -grow more and more infatuated every day. "She is such a sweet-tempered, -affectionate little puss," he says; and I admit to myself that she is -sweet-tempered, and that nothing ruffles her, but about the affectionate -part I am not so certain. Guy would pet her and caress her all the time -if she would let him, but she won't. - -"O, please don't touch me. It is too warm, and you muss my dress," I -have heard her say more than once when he came in and tried to put his -arm about her or take her in his lap. - -Indeed, her dress seems to be uppermost in her mind, and I have known -her to try on half a dozen different ones before she could decide in -which she looked the best. No matter what Guy is doing, or how deeply he -is absorbed in his studies, she makes him stop and inspect her from all -points, and give his opinion, and Guy submits in a way perfectly -wonderful to me who never dared to disturb him when shut up with his -books. - -Another thing, too, he submits to which astonishes me more than anything -else. It used to annoy him terribly to wait for anything or anybody. -_He_ was always ready, and expected others to be, but Daisy is just the -reverse. Such dawdling habits I never saw in any person. With Zillah to -help her dress she is never ready for breakfast, never ready for dinner, -never ready for church, never ready for anything, and that, in a -household accustomed to order and regularity, does put things back so, -and make so much trouble. - -"Don't wait breakfast for me, please," she says, when she has been -called for the third or fourth time, and if she can get us to sit down -without her she seems to think it all right, and that she can be as long -as she likes. - -I wonder that it never occurs to her that to keep the breakfast table -round, as we must, makes the girls cross and upsets the kitchen -generally. I hinted as much to her once when the table stood till ten -o'clock, and she only opened her great blue eyes wonderingly, and said -mamma had spoiled her she guessed, for it did not use to matter at home -when she was ready, but she would try and do better. She bade Zillah -call her at _five_ the next morning, and Zillah called her, and then she -was a half hour late. Guy doesn't like that, and he looked daggers on -the night of the reception, when the guests began to arrive before she -was dressed! And she commenced her toilet too, at three o'clock! But she -was wondrously beautiful in her bridal robes, and took all hearts by -storm. She is perfectly at home in society, and knows just what to do -and say so long as the conversation keeps in the fashionable round of -chit-chat, but when it drifts into deeper channels she is silent at -once, or only answers in monosyllables. I believe she is a good French -scholar, and she plays and sings tolerably well, and reads the novels as -they come out, but of books and literature, in general, she is wholly -ignorant, and if Guy thought to find in her any sympathy with his -favorite studies and authors he is terribly mistaken. - -And yet, as I write all this, my conscience gives me sundry pricks as if -I were wronging her, for in spite of her faults I like her ever so much, -and like to watch her flitting through the house and grounds like the -little fairy she is, and I hope the marriage may turn out well, and that -she will improve with age, and make Guy very happy. - - - - -CHAPTER II.--EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL. - - - September 20th, 18--. - -Three months married. Three months with Daisy all to myself, and yet not -exactly to myself either, for of her own accord she does not often come -where I am, unless it is just as I have shut myself up in my room, -thinking to have a quiet hour with my books. Then she generally appears, -and wants me to ride with her, or play croquet or see which dress is -most becoming, and I always submit and obey her as if I were the child -instead of herself. - -She _is_ young, and I almost wonder her parents allowed her to marry. -Fan hints that they were mercenary, but if they were they concealed the -fact wonderfully well, and made me think it a great sacrifice on their -part to give me Daisy. And so it was; such a lovely little darling, and -so beautiful. What a sensation she created at Saratoga! and still I was -glad to get away, for I did not fancy some things which were done there. -I did not like so many young men around her, nor her dancing those -abominable round dances which she seemed to enjoy so much. "Square -dances were poky," she said, even after I tried them with her for the -sake of keeping her out of that vile John Britton's arms. I have an -impression that I made a spectacle of myself, hopping about like a -magpie, but Daisy said, "I did beautifully," though she cried because I -put my foot on her lace flounce and tore it, and I noticed that after -that she always had some good reason why I should not dance again. "It -was too hard work for me; I was too big and clumsy," she said, "and -would tire easily. Cousin Tom was big and he never danced." - -By the way, I have some little curiosity with regard to that Cousin Tom -who wanted Daisy so badly, and who, because she refused him, went off to -South America. I trust he will stay there. Not that I am or could be -jealous of Daisy, but it is better for cousins like Tom to keep away. - -Daisy is very happy here, though she is not quite as enthusiastic over -the place as I supposed she would be, knowing how she lived at home. The -McDonalds are intensely respectable, so she says; but her father's -practice cannot bring him over two thousand a year, and the small brown -house they live in, with only a grass-plot in the rear and at the side, -is not to be compared with Elmwood, which is a fine old place, every one -admits. It has come out gradually that she thought the house was brick -and had a tower and billiard-room, and that we kept a great many -servants, and had a fish-pond on the premises, and velvet carpets on -every floor. I would not let Fan know this for the world, as I want her -to like Daisy thoroughly. - -And she does like her, though this little pink and white pet of mine is -a new revelation to her, and puzzles her amazingly. She would have been -glad if I had married Julia Hamilton, of Boston; but those Boston girls -are too strong-minded and positive to suit me. Julia is nice, it is -true, and pretty, and highly educated, and Fan says she has brains and -would make a splendid wife. As Fan had never seen Daisy she did not, of -course, mean to hint that she had not brains, but I suspect even now she -would be better pleased if Julia were here, but I should not. Julia is -self-reliant; Daisy is not. Julia has opinions of her own and asserts -them, too; Daisy does not. Julia can sew and run a machine; Daisy -cannot. Julia gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night; Daisy -does neither. Nobody ever waits for Julia; everybody waits for Daisy. -Julia reads scientific works and dotes on metaphysics; Daisy does not -know the meaning of the word. In short, Julia is a strong, high-toned, -energetic, independent woman, while Daisy is--a little innocent, -confiding girl, whom I would rather have without brains than all the -Boston women like Julia with brains! - -And yet I sometimes wish she did care for books, and was more interested -in what interests me. I have tried reading aloud to her an hour every -evening, but she generally goes to sleep or steals up behind me to look -over my shoulder and see how near I am to the end of the chapter, and -when I reach it she says: "Excuse me, but I have just thought of -something I must tell Zillah about the dress I want to wear to-morrow. -I'll be back in a moment;" and off she goes and our reading is ended for -that time, for I notice she never returns. The dress is of more -importance than the book, and I find her at ten or eleven trying to -decide whether black or white or blue is most becoming to her. Poor -Daisy! I fear she had no proper training at home. Indeed, she told me -the other day that from her earliest recollection she had been taught -that the main object of her life was to marry young and to marry money. -Of course she did not mean anything, but I would rather she had not said -it, even though I know she refused a millionaire for me who can hardly -be called rich as riches are rated these days. If Dick Trevylian should -fail to meet his payment I should be very poor, and then what would -become of Daisy, to whom the luxuries which money buys are so necessary? - -[Here followed several other entries in the journal, consisting mostly -of rhapsodies on Daisy, and then came the following:] - - ---- - - December 15th, 18--. - -Dick _has_ failed to meet his payments, and that too after having -borrowed of me twenty thousand more! Is he a villain, and did he know -all the time that I was ruining myself? I cannot think so when I -remember the look on his face as he told me about it and swore to me -solemnly that up to the very last he fully expected relief from England, -where he thought he had a fortune. - -"If I live I will pay you sometime," he said; but that does not help me -now. I am a ruined man. Elmwood must be sold, and I must work like a dog -to earn my daily bread. For myself I would not mind it much, and Fan, -who, woman-like, saw it in the distance and warned me of it, behaves -nobly; but it falls hard on Daisy. - -Poor Daisy! She never said a word when I told her the exact truth, but -she went to bed and cried for one whole day. I am so glad I settled ten -thousand dollars on her when we were married. No one can touch that, and -I told her so; but she did not say a word or seem to know what I meant. -Talking of anything serious, or expressing her opinion, was never in her -line, and she has not of her own accord spoken with me on the subject, -and when I try to talk with her about our future she shudders and cries, -and says, "Please don't! I can't bear it! I want to go home to mother!" - -And so it is settled that while we are arranging matters she is to visit -her mother and perhaps not return till spring, when I hope to be in a -better condition financially than I am at present. - -One thing Daisy said, which hurt me cruelly, and that was: "If I must be -a poor man's wife I might as well have married Cousin Tom, who wanted me -so badly!" To do her justice, however, she added immediately: "But I -like you the best." - -I am glad she said that. It will be something to remember when she is -gone, or rather when I return without her, as I am going to Indianapolis -with her, and then back to the dreary business of seeing what I have -left and what I can do. I have an offer for the house, and shall sell it -at once; but where my home will be next, I do not know, neither would I -care so much if it were not for Daisy,--poor little Daisy!--who thought -she had married a rich man. The only tears I have shed over my lost -fortune were for her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy! - - - - -CHAPTER III.--EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - - Elmwood, September 20th, 18--. - -Daisy McDonald Thornton's journal,--presented by my husband, Mr. Guy -Thornton, who wishes me to write something in it every day; and who, -when I asked him what I should write, said: "Your thoughts, and -opinions, and experiences. It will be pleasant for you sometime to look -back upon your early married life and see what progress you have made -since then, and will help you to recall incidents you would otherwise -forget. A journal fixes things in your mind, and I know you will enjoy -it, especially as no one is to see it, and you can talk to it freely as -to a friend." - -That is what Guy said, and I wrote it right down to copy into the book -as a kind of preface or introduction. I am not much pleased with having -to keep a journal, and maybe I shall coax Zillah to keep it for me. I -don't care to _fix_ things in my mind. I don't like things _fixed_, -anyway. I'd rather they would lie round loose, as they surely would, if -I had not Zillah to pick them up. She is a treasure, and it is almost -worth being married to have a waiting-maid,--and that reminds me that I -may as well begin back at the time when I was not married, and did not -want to be either, if we had not been so poor, and obliged to make so -many shifts to keep up appearances and seem richer than we were. - -My maiden name was Margaret McDonald, and I am seventeen next New Year's -Day. My father is of Scotch descent, and a lawyer; and mother was a -Barnard, from New Orleans, and has some very good blood in her veins. I -am an only child, and very handsome,--so everybody says; and I should -know it if they did not say it, for can't I see myself in the glass? And -still I really do not care so much for my good looks except as they -serve to attain the end for which father says I was born. - -Almost the first thing I can remember is of his telling me that I must -marry young and marry rich, and I promised him I would, provided I could -stay at home with mother just the same after I was married. Another -thing I remember, which made a lasting impression, and that is the -beating father gave me for asking before some grand people staying at -our house, "Why we did not always have beefsteak and hot muffins for -breakfast, instead of baked potatoes and bread and butter?" - -I must learn to keep my mouth shut, he said, and not tell all I knew; -and I profited by the lesson, and that is one reason, I suppose, why I -so rarely say what I think or express an opinion either favorable or -otherwise. - -I do not believe I am deceitful, though all my life I have seen my -parents try to seem what they are not; that is, try to seem like rich -people, when sometimes father's practice brought him only a few hundreds -a year, and there was mother and myself and Tom to support. Tom is my -cousin,--Tom McDonald--who lived with us and fell in love with me, -though I never tried to make him. But I liked him ever so much, even if -he did use to tease me horridly, and put horn-bugs in my shoes, and -worms on my neck, and jack-o'lanterns in my room, and tip me off his -sled into the snow; for with all his teasing, he had a great, kind, -unselfish heart, and I shall never forget that look on his face when I -told him I could not be his wife. I did not like him as he liked me, and -I did not want to be married any way. I could not bear the thought of -being tied up to some man, and if I did marry it must be to somebody who -was rich. That was in Chicago, and the night before Tom started for -South America, where he was going to make his fortune, and he wanted me -to promise to wait for him, and said no one would ever love me as well -as he did. - -I could not promise, because, even if he had all the gold mines in Peru, -I did not care to spend my days with him,--to see him morning, noon and -night, and all the time. It is a good deal to ask of a woman, and I told -him so, and he cried so hard,--not loud, but in a pitiful kind of way, -which hurt me cruelly. I hear that sobbing sometimes now in my sleep, -and it's like the moan of the wind round that house on the prairie where -Tom's mother died. Poor Tom! I gave him a lock of my hair and let him -kiss me twice, and then he went away, and after that old Judge Burton -offered himself and his million to me; but I could not endure his bald -head a week, I should hate him awfully and I told him no; and when -father seemed sorry and said I missed it, I told him I would not sell -myself for gold alone,--I'd run away first and go after Tom, who was -young and just bearable. Then Guy Thornton came, and--and--well, he took -me by storm, and I liked him better than any one I had ever seen, though -I would rather have him for my friend,--my beau, whom I could order -around and get rid of when I pleased, but I married him. Everybody said -he was rich, and father was satisfied and gave his consent, and bought -me a most elaborate trousseau. I wondered then where the money came -from. Now, I know that _Tom_ sent it. He has been very successful with -his mine, and in a letter to father sent me a check for fifteen hundred -dollars. Father would not tell me that, but mother did, and I felt -worse, I think, than when I heard the sobbing. Poor Tom! I never wear -one of the dresses now without thinking who paid for it and wrote in his -letter, "I am working like an ox for Daisy." Poor Tom! - - ---- - - October 1st, 18--. - -I rather like writing in my journal after all, for here I can say what I -think, and I guess I shall not let Zillah make the entries. Where did I -leave off? Oh, about poor Tom. - -I have had a letter from him. He had just heard of my marriage, and only -said, "God bless you, my darling little Daisy, and may you be very -happy." - -I burned the letter up and cried myself into a headache. I wish people -would not love me so much. I do not deserve it, for I know I am not what -they think me to be. There's Guy, my husband, more to be pitied than -Tom, because, you see, he has got me; and privately, between you and me, -old journal, I am not worth the getting, and I know it perhaps better -than any one else. I do not think I am really mean or bad, but there -certainly is in my make-up something different from other women. I like -Guy and believe him to be the best man in the world, and I would rather -he kissed me than Tom, but do not want any body to kiss me, especially a -man, and Guy is so affectionate, and his great hands are so hot, and -muss my fluted dresses so terribly. - -I guess I don't like to be married anyway. If one only could have the -house, and the money, and the nice things without the husband! That's -wicked, of course, when Guy is so kind and loves me so much. I wish he -didn't, but I would not for the world let him know how I feel. I did -tell him that I was not the wife he ought to have, but he would not -believe me, and father was anxious, and so I married him, meaning to do -the best I could. It was splendid at Saratoga, only Guy danced so -ridiculously and would not let me waltz with those young men. As if I -cared a straw for them or any body besides Guy and Tom! - -It is very pleasant here at Elmwood, but the house is not as grand as I -supposed, and there are not as many servants, and the family carriage is -awful pokey. Guy is to give me a pretty little phaeton on my birthday. - -I like Miss Frances very much, only she is such a raging housekeeper, -and keeps me all the while on the alert. I don't believe in these raging -housekeepers who act as if they wanted to make the bed before you are -up, and eat breakfast before it is ready. I don't like to get up in the -morning any way, and I don't like to hurry, and I am always behind, and -keeping somebody waiting, and that disturbs the people here very much. -Miss Frances seems really cross sometimes, and even Guy looks sober and -disturbed when he has waited for me half an hour or more. I guess I must -try and do better, for both Guy and Miss Frances are as kind as they can -be, but then I am not one bit like them, and have never been accustomed -to anything like order and regularity. At home things came round any -time, and I came with them, and that suited me better than being -married, only now I have a kind of settled feeling, and am Mrs. Guy -Thornton, and Guy is good looking, and highly esteemed, and very -learned, and I can see that the young ladies in the neighborhood envy me -for being his wife. I wonder who is that Julia Hamilton, Miss Frances -talks about so much, and why Guy did not marry her instead of me. She is -very learned, and gets up in the morning and flies round and is always -ready, and reads scientific articles in the _Westminster Review_, and -teaches in Sunday-school, and thinks it wicked to waltz, and likes to -discuss all the mixed-up horrid questions of the day,--religion and -politics and science and everything. I asked Guy once why he did not -marry her instead of a little goose like me, and he said he liked the -little goose the best, and then kissed me, and crumpled my white dress -all up. Poor Guy! I wish I did love him as well as he does me, but it's -not in me to love any body very much. - - ---- - - December 20th, 18--. - -A horrible thing has happened, and I have married a poor man after all! -Guy signed for somebody and had to pay, and Elmwood must be sold, and we -are to move into a stuffy little house, without Zillah, and with but one -girl, and I shall have to take care of my own room as I did at home, and -make my own bed and pick up my things and shall never be ready for -dinner. It is too dreadful to think about, and I was sick for a week -after Guy told me of it. I might as well have married Tom, only I like -Guy the best. He looks so sorry and sad that I sometimes forget myself -to pity him. I am going home to mother for a long, long time,--all -winter may be,--and I shall enjoy it so much. Guy says I have ten -thousand dollars of my own, and the interest on that will buy my -dresses, I guess, and get something for Miss Frances, too. She is a -noble woman, and tries to bear up so bravely. She says they will keep -the furniture of my blue room for me, if I want it; and I do, and I mean -to have Guy send it to Indianapolis, if he will. Oh, mother, I am so -glad I am coming back, where I can do exactly as I like,--eat my -breakfast on the washstand if I choose, and sit up all night long. I -almost wish,--no, I don't, either. I like Guy ever so much. It's being -tied up that I don't like. - - - - -CHAPTER IV.--AUTHOR'S STORY. - - -Guy Thornton was not a fool, and Daisy was not a fool, though they have -thus far appeared to great disadvantage. Beth had made a mistake; Guy in -marrying a child whose mind was unformed; and Daisy in marrying at all, -when her whole nature was in revolt against matrimony. But the mistake -was made, and Guy had failed and Daisy was going home, and the New -Year's morning when she was to have received Guy's gift of the phaeton -and ponies, found her at the little cottage in Indianapolis, where she -at once resumed all the old indolent habits of her girlhood, and was -happier than she had been since leaving home as a bride. - -On Mr. McDonald, the news of his son-in-law's failure fell like a -thunderbolt and affected him more than it did Daisy. Shrewd, ambitious -and scheming, he had for years planned for his daughter a moneyed -marriage, and now she was returned upon his hands for an indefinite -time, with her naturally luxurious tastes intensified by recent -indulgence, and her husband a ruined man. It was not a pleasant picture -to contemplate, and Mr. McDonald's face was cloudy and thoughtful for -many days, until a letter from Tom turned his thoughts into a new -channel and sent him with fresh avidity to certain points of law with -which he had of late years been familiar. If there was one part of his -profession in which he excelled more than another it was in the divorce -cases which had made Indiana so notorious. Squire McDonald, as he was -called, was well known to that class of people who, utterly ignoring -God's command, seek to free themselves from the bonds which once were so -pleasant to wear, and as he sat alone in his office with Tom's letter in -his hand, and read how rapidly that young man was getting rich, there -came into his mind a plan, the very thought of which would have made Guy -Thornton shudder with horror and disgust. - -Daisy had not been altogether satisfied with her brief married life, and -it would be very easy to make her more dissatisfied, especially as the -home to which she would return must necessarily be very different from -Elmwood. Tom was destined to be a millionaire. There was no doubt of -that, and he could be moulded and managed as Mr. McDonald had never been -able to mould or manage Guy. But everything pertaining to Tom must be -kept carefully out of sight, for the man knew his daughter would never -lend herself to such a diabolical scheme as that which he was revolving, -and which he at once put in progress, managing so adroitly that before -Daisy was at all aware of what she was doing, she found herself the -heroine of a divorce suit, founded really upon nothing but a general -dissatisfaction with married life, and a wish to be free from it. -Something there was about incompatibility of temperament and -uncongeniality and all that kind of thing which wicked men and women -parade before the world when weary of the tie which God has said shall -not be torn asunder. - -It is not our intention to follow the suit through any of its details, -and we shall only say that it progressed rapidly, while poor -unsuspicious Guy was working hard to retrieve in some way his lost -fortune, and to fit up a pleasant home for the childish wife who was -drifting away from him. He had missed her so much at first, even while -he felt it a relief to have her gone when his business matters needed -all his time and thought. It was some comfort to write to her, but not -much to receive her letters, for Daisy did not excel in epistolary -composition, and after a few weeks her letters were short and far apart, -and, as Guy thought, constrained and studied in their tone, and when, -after she had been absent from him for three months or more his longing -to see her was so great that he decided upon a visit of a few days to -the West, and apprized her of his intention, asking if she would be glad -to see him, he received in reply a telegram from Mr. McDonald telling -him to defer his journey as Daisy was visiting some friends and would be -absent for an indefinite length of time. There was but one more letter -from her, and that was dated at Vincennes, and merely said that she was -well, and Guy must not feel anxious about her or take the trouble to -come to see her, as she knew how valuable his time must be, and would -far rather he should devote himself to his business than bother about -her. The letter was signed, "Hastily, Daisy," and Guy read it over many -times with a pang in his heart he could not define. - -But he had no suspicion of the terrible blow in store for him, and went -on planning for her comfort just the same; and when at last Elmwood was -sold and he could no longer stay there, he hired a more expensive house -than he could afford, because he thought Daisy would like it better, and -then, with his sister Frances, set himself to the pleasant task of -fitting it up for Daisy. There was a blue room with a bay window just as -there had been in Elmwood, only it was not so pretentious and large. But -it was very pleasant, and had a door opening out upon what Guy meant -should be a flower garden in the summer, and though he missed his little -wife sadly, and longed so much at times for a sight of her beautiful -face and the sound of her sweet voice, he put all thought of himself -aside and said he would not bring her back until the May flowers were in -blossom and the young grass bright and green by the blue room door. - -"She will have a better impression of her new home then," he said to his -sister, "and I want her to be happy here and not feel the change too -keenly." - -Julia Hamilton chanced to be in town staying at the Towers, and as she -was very intimate with Miss Thornton the two were a great deal together, -and it thus came about that Julia was often at the brown cottage and -helped to settle the blue room for Daisy. - -"If it were only you who was to occupy it," Frances said to her one -morning when they had been reading together for an hour or more in the -room they both thought so pretty. "I like Daisy, but somehow she seems -so far from me. Why, there's not a sentiment in common between us." - -Then, as if sorry for having said so much, she spoke of Daisy's -marvelous beauty and winning ways, and hoped Julia would know and love -her ere long, and possibly do her good. - -It so happened that Guy was sometimes present at these readings and -enjoyed them so much that there insensibly crept into his heart a wish -that Daisy was more like the Boston girl whom he had mentally termed -strong-minded and stiff. - -"And in time, perhaps, she maybe," he thought. "I mean to have Julia -here a great deal next summer, and with two such women for companions as -Julia and Fan, Daisy cannot help but improve." - -And so at last when the house was settled and the early spring flowers -were in bloom Guy started westward for his wife. He had not seen her now -for months, and it was more than two weeks since he had heard from her, -and his heart beat high with joyful anticipation as he thought just how -she would look when she came to him, shyly and coyly, as she always did, -with that droop in her eye-lids and that pink flush in her cheeks. He -would chide her a little at first, he said, for having been so poor a -correspondent, especially of late, and after that he would love her so -much, and shield her so tenderly from every want or care that she should -never feel the difference in his fortune. - -Poor Guy,--he little dreamed what was in store for him just inside the -door where he stood ringing one morning in May, and which, when at last -it was opened, shut in a very different man from the one who who went -through it three hours later, benumbed and half-crazed with bewilderment -and surprise. - - - - -CHAPTER V.--THE DIVORCE. - - -He had expected to meet Daisy in the hall, but she was not in sight, and -her mother, who appeared in response to the card he sent up, seemed -confused and unnatural to such a degree that Guy asked in some alarm if -anything had happened, and where Daisy was. - -Nothing had happened,--that is,--well, nothing was the matter with -Daisy, Mrs. McDonald said, only she was nervous and not feeling quite -well that morning, and thought she better not come down. They were not -expecting him so soon, she continued, and she regretted exceedingly that -her husband was not there, but she had sent for him, and hoped he would -come immediately. Had Mr. Thornton been to breakfast? - -He had been to breakfast, and he did not understand at all what she -meant; if Daisy could not come to him, he must go to her, he said, and -he started for the door, when Mrs. McDonald sprang forward, and laying -her hand on his arm, held him back, saying: - -"Wait, Mr. Thornton: wait till husband comes--to tell you----" - -"Tell me what!" Guy demanded, feeling sure now that something had -befallen Daisy. - -"Tell you--that--that,--Daisy is,--that he has,--that,--oh, believe me, -it was not my wish at all, and I don't know now why it was done," Mrs. -McDonald said, still trying to detain Guy and keep him in the room. - -But her efforts were vain, for shaking off her grasp, Guy opened the -hall door, and with a cry of joy caught Daisy herself in his arms. - -In a state of fearful excitement and very curious to know what was -passing between her mother and Guy, she had stolen down stairs to -listen, and had reached the door just as Guy opened it so suddenly. - -"Daisy, darling, I feared you were sick," he cried, nearly smothering -her with his caresses. - -But Daisy writhed herself away from him, and putting up her hands to -keep him off, cried out: - -"Oh, Guy, Guy, you can't,--you mustn't. You must never kiss me again or -love me any more, because I am,--I am not,----Oh, Guy, I wish you had -never seen me; I am so sorry, too. I did like you. I,--I,--Guy,--Guy,--I -am not your wife any more I Father has got a divorce!" - -She whispered the last words, and then, affrighted at the expression of -Guy's face, fled half way up the stairs, where she stood looking down -upon him, while, with a face as white as ashes, he, too, stood gazing at -her and trying to frame the words which should ask her what she meant. -He did not believe her literally; the idea was too preposterous, but he -felt that some thing horrible had come between him and Daisy,--that in -some way she was as much lost to him as if he had found her coffined for -the grave, and the suddenness of the blow took from him for a moment his -powers of speech, and he still stood looking at her when the street door -opened, and a new actor appeared upon the scene in the person of Mr. -McDonald, who had hastened home in obedience to the message from his -wife. - -It was a principle of Mr. McDonald never to lose his presence of mind or -his temper, or the smooth, low tone of voice he had cultivated years ago -and practiced with so good effect. - -And now, though he understood the state of matters at once and knew that -Guy had heard the worst, he did not seem ruffled in the slightest -degree, and his voice was just as kind and sweet as ever as he bade Guy -good-morning, and advanced to take his hand. But Guy would not take it. -He had always disliked and distrusted Mr. McDonald, and he felt -intuitively that whatever harm had befallen him had come through the -oily-tongued man who stood smilingly before him. With a gesture of -disgust he turned away from the offered hand, and in a voice husky with -suppressed excitement, asked: - -"What does all this mean, that when, after a separation of months, I -come for my wife, I am told that she is not my wife,--that there has -been a--a divorce?" - -Guy had brought himself to name the horrid thing, and the very sound of -the word served to make it more real and clear to his mind, and there -were great drops of sweat, upon his forehead and about his mouth as he -asked what it meant. - -"Oh, Guy, don't feel so badly. Tell him, father, I did not do it," Daisy -cried, as she stood leaning over the stair-rail looking down at the -wretched man. - -"Daisy, go to your room. You should not have seen him at all," Mr. -McDonald said, with more sternness of manner than was usual for him. - -Then, turning to Guy, he continued: - -"Come in here, Mr. Thornton, where we can be alone while I explain to -you what seems so mysterious now." - -They went together into the little parlor, and for half an hour or more -the sound of their voices was distinctly heard as Mr. McDonald tried to -explain what there really was no explanation or excuse for. Daisy was -not contented at Elmwood, and though she complained of nothing she was -not happy as a married woman, and was glad to be free again. That was -all, and Guy understood at last that Daisy was his no longer; that the -law which was a disgrace to the State in which it existed had divorced -him from his wife without his knowledge or consent, and for no other -reason than incompatibility of temperament, and a desire on Daisy's part -to be free from the marriage tie. Not a word had been said of Guy's -altered fortunes, but he felt that his comparative poverty was really -the cause of this great wrong, and for a few moments resentment and -indignation prevailed over every other feeling; then, when he remembered -the little blue-eyed, innocent-faced girl whom he had loved so much and -thought so good and true, he laid his head upon the sofa-arm and groaned -bitterly, while the man who had ruined him sat coolly by, citing to him -many similar cases where divorces had been procured without the -knowledge of the absent party. It was a common,--a very common thing, he -said, and reflected no disgrace where there was no criminal charge. -Daisy was too young and childish anyway, and ought not to have been -married for several years, and it was really quite as much a favor to -Guy as a wrong. He was free again,--free to marry if he liked,--he had -taken care to see to that, so---- - -"Stop!" Guy thundered out, rousing himself from his crouching attitude -upon the sofa. "There is a point beyond which you shall not go. Be -satisfied with taking Daisy from me, and do not insult me with talk of a -second marriage. Had I found Daisy dead it would have hurt me less than -this fearful wrong you have done. I say _you_, for I charge it all to -_you_. Daisy could have had no part in it, and I ask to see her and hear -from her own lips that she accepts the position in which you and your -diabolical laws have placed her before I am willing to give her up. Call -her, will you?" - -"No, Mr. Thornton," Mr. McDonald replied. "To see Daisy would be -useless, and only excite you more than you are excited now. You cannot -see her." - -"Yes he will, father. If Guy wants to see me, he shall." - -It was Daisy herself who spoke, and who a second time had been acting -the part of listener. Going up to Guy she knelt down beside him, and -laying her arms across his lap, said to him. - -"What is it, Guy what is it you wish to say to me?" - -The sight of her before him in all her girlish beauty, with that soft, -sweet expression on the face raised so timidly to his, unmanned Guy -entirely, and clasping her in his arms he wept passionately for a -moment, while he tried to say: - -"Oh, Daisy, my darling, tell me it is a horrid dream,--tell me you are -still my wife, and go with me to the home I have tried to make so -pleasant for your sake. It is not like Elmwood, but I will sometime have -one handsomer even than that, and I'll work so hard for you. Oh, Daisy, -tell me you are sorry for the part you had in this fearful business, if -indeed you had a part, and I'll take you back so gladly. Will you, -Daisy; will you be my wife once more? I shall never ask you again. This -is your last chance with me. Reflect before you throw it away." - -Guy's mood was changing a little, because of something he saw in Daisy's -face,--a drawing back from him when he spoke of marriage. - -"Daisy must not go back with you; I shall not suffer that," Mr. McDonald -said, while Daisy, still keeping her arms around Guy's neck, where she -had put them when he drew her to him, replied: - -"Oh, Guy! I can't go with you; but I shall like you always, and I'm -sorry for you. I never wanted to be married; but if I must, I'd better -have married _Tom_, or that old Chicago man; they would not have felt so -badly, and I'd rather hurt them than you." - -The utter childishness of the remark roused Guy, and, with a gesture of -impatience, he put her from him, and rising to his feet, said angrily: - -"This, then, is your decision, and I accept it; but, Daisy, if you have -in you a spark of true womanhood, you will some time be sorry for this -day's work; while _you_!" and he turned fiercely upon Mr. -McDonald,--"words cannot express the contempt I feel for you; and know, -too, that I understand you fully, and am certain that were I the rich -man I was when you gave your daughter to me, you would not have taken -her away. But I will waste no more words upon you. You are a _villain_! -and Daisy is"----His white lips quivered a little as he hesitated a -moment, and then added: "Daisy _was_ my wife." - -Then, without another word, he left the house, and never turned to see -the white, frightened face which looked after him so wistfully until a -turn in the street hid him from view. - - - - -CHAPTER VI.--EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. - - - _Extract 1st.--Mr. McDonald's._ - - May ----. - -Well, that matter is over, and I can't say I am sorry, for the -expression in that Thornton's eye I do not care to meet a second time. -There was mischief in it, and it made one think of six-shooters and cold -lead. I never quite indorsed the man,--first, because he was not as rich -as I would like Daisy's husband to be; and second, because even had he -been a millionaire it would have done _me_ no good. That he did not -marry Daisy's family, he made me fully understand; and for any good his -money did me, I was as poor after the marriage as before. Then he must -needs lose all he had in that foolish way; and when I found that Daisy -was not exceedingly in love with married life, it was natural that, as -her father, I should take advantage of the laws of the State in which I -live, especially as _Tom_ is growing rich so fast. On the whole, I have -done a good thing. Daisy is free, with ten thousand dollars which -Thornton settled on her; for, of course, I shall prevent her giving that -back as she is determined to do, saying it is not hers, and she will not -keep it. It is hers and she shall keep it, and Tom will be a millionaire -if that gold mine proves as great a success as it seems likely to do; -and I can manage Tom, only I am sorry for Thornton who evidently was in -love with Daisy; and, as I said before, I've done a nice thing after -all. - - ---- - - _Extract 2nd.--Miss Thornton's Diary._ - - June 30th, 18--. - -To-day, for the first time, we have hopes that my brother will live; -but, oh! how near he has been to the gates of death since that night -when he came back to us from the West, with a fearful look on his face, -and a cruel wound in his heart. I say us, for Julia Hamilton has been -with me all through the dreadful days and nights when I watched to see -Guy's life go out and know I was left alone. She was with me when I was -getting ready for Daisy, and waiting for Guy to bring her home,--not to -Elmwood,--that dear old place is sold, and strangers walk the rooms I -love so well,--but here to the brown cottage on the hill, which, if I -had never had Elmwood, would seem so pleasant to me. - -And it is pleasant here, especially in Daisy's room, which we shall -never use, for the door is shut and bolted, and it seems each time I -pass it as if a dead body were lying hidden there. Had Guy died I would -have laid him there and sent for that false creature to come and see her -work. I promised her so much, but not from any love, for my heart was -full of bitterness that night when I turned her from the door out into -the rain. I shall never tell Guy that, lest he should soften toward her, -and I would not have her here again for all the world contains. And yet -I did like her, and was looking forward to her return with a good deal -of pleasure. Julia had spoken many a kind word for her, had pleaded her -extreme youth as an excuse for her faults, and had led me to hope for -better things when time had matured her somewhat and she had become -accustomed to our new mode of life. - -And so I waited for her and Guy, and wondered I did not hear from them, -and felt so glad and happy when I received the telegram, "Shall be home -to-night." It was a bright day in May, but the evening set in cool, with -a feeling of rain in the air, and I had a fire kindled in the parlor and -in Daisy's room, for I remembered how she used to crouch on the rug -before the grate and watch the blaze floating up the chimney with all -the eagerness of a child. Then, although it hurt me sorely, I went to -Simpson, who bought our carriage, and asked that it might be sent to the -station so that Daisy should not feel the difference at once. And Jerry, -our old coachman, went with it, and waited there just as Julia and I -waited at home, for Julia had promised to stay a few days on purpose to -see Daisy. - -The train was late that night, an hour behind time, and the spring rain -was falling outside and the gas was lighted within when I heard the -sound of wheels stopping at the door and went to meet my brother. But -only my brother. There was no Daisy with him. He came in alone, with -such an awful look on his white face as made me cry out with alarm. - -"What is it, Guy, and where is Daisy?" I asked, as he staggered against -the bannister, where he leaned heavily. - -He did not answer my question, but said, "Take me to my room," in a -voice I would never have known for Guy's. I took him to his room and -made him lie down, and brought him a glass of wine, and then, when he -was strong enough to tell it, listened to the shameful story, and felt -that henceforth and forever I must and would hate the woman who had -wounded my Guy so cruelly. - -And still there is some good in her,--some sense of right and justice, -as was shown by what she did when Guy was at the worst of the terrible -fever which followed his coming home. I watched him constantly. I would -not even let Julia Hamilton share my vigils, and one night when I was -worn out with fatigue and anxiety I fell asleep upon the lounge, where I -threw myself for a moment. How long I slept I never knew, but it must -have been an hour or more, for the last thing I remember was hearing the -whistle of the Western train and the distant sound of thunder as if a -storm were coming, and when I awoke the rain was falling heavily and the -clock was striking twelve, which was an hour after the train was due. It -was very quiet in the room, and darker than usual, for some one had -shaded the lamp from my eyes as well as Guy's, so that at first I did -not see distinctly, but I had an impression that there was a figure -sitting by Guy near the bed. Julia most likely, I thought, and I called -her by name, feeling my blood curdle in my veins and my heart stand -still with something like fear when a voice I knew so well and never -expected to hear again, answered softly: - -"It is not Julia. _It's I._" - -There was no faltering in her voice, no sound of apology. She spoke like -one who had a right to be there, and this it was which so enraged me and -made me lose my self-command. Starting to my feet, I confronted her as -she sat in my chair, by Guy's bedside, with those queer blue eyes of -hers fixed so questioningly upon me as if she wondered at my -impertinence. - -"_Miss McDonald_," I said, laying great stress on the name, "why are you -here, and how did you dare come?" - -"I _was_ almost afraid, it was so dark when I left the train, and it -kept thundering so," she replied, mistaking my meaning altogether, "but -there was no conveyance at the station and so I came on alone. I never -knew Guy was sick. Why did you not write and tell me? Is he very bad?" - -Her perfect composure and utter ignoring of the past provoked me beyond -endurance, and without stopping to think what I was doing, I seized her -arm, and drawing her into an adjoining room, said, in a suppressed -whisper of rage: - -"Very bad,--I should think so. We have feared and still fear he will -die, and it's all your work, the result of your wickedness, and yet you -presume to come here into his very room,--you who are no wife of his, -and no woman either, to do what you have done." - -What more I said I do not remember. I only know Daisy put her hands to -her head in a scared, helpless way, and said: - -"I do not quite understand it all, or what you wish me to do." - -"Do?" I replied. "I want you to leave this house immediately,--_now_, -before Guy can possibly be harmed by your presence. Go back to the depot -and take the next train home. It is due in an hour. You have time to -reach it." - -"But it is so dark, and it rains and thunders so," she said, with a -shudder, as a heavy peal shook the house and the rain beat against the -windows. - -I think I must have been crazy with mad excitement, and her answer made -me worse. - -"You were not afraid to come here," I said. "You can go from here as -well. Thunder will not hurt such as you." - -Even then she did not move, but crouched in a corner of the room -farthest from me, reminding me of my kitten when I try to drive it from -a place where it has been permitted to play. As that will not understand -my _'scats_ and gestures so she did not seem to comprehend my meaning. -But I made her at last, and with a very white face and a strange look in -her great staring blue eyes, she said: - -"Fanny," (she always called me Miss Frances before). "Fanny, do you -really mean me to go back in the dark, and the rain and the thunder? -Then I will, but I must tell you first what I came for, and you will -tell Guy. He gave me ten thousand dollars when we first were married; -settled it on me, they called it, and father was one of the trustees, -and kept the paper for me till I was of age. So much I understand, but -not why I can't give it back to Guy, for father says I can't. I never -dreamed it was mine after the--the--the divorce." - -She spoke the word softly and hesitatingly, while a faint flush showed -on her otherwise white face. - -"If I am not Guy's wife, as they say, then I have no right to his money, -and I told father so, and said I'd give it back, and he said I couldn't, -and I said I could and would, and I wrote to Guy about it, and told him -I was not so mean, and father kept the letter, and I did not know what I -should do next till I was invited to visit Aunt Merriman in Detroit. -Then I took the paper,--the _settlement_, you know, from the box where -father kept it, and put it in my pocket; here it is; see--" and she drew -out a document and held it toward me while she continued: "I started for -Detroit under the care of a friend who stopped a few miles the other -side, so you see I was free to come here if I liked, and I did so, for I -wanted to see Guy and give him the paper, and tell him I'd never take a -cent of his money. I am sorry he is sick. I did not think he'd care so -much, and I don't know what to do with the paper unless I tear it up. I -believe I'd better; then surely it will be out of the way." - -And before I could speak or think she tore the document in two, and then -across again, and scattered the four pieces on the floor. - -"Tell Guy, please," she continued, "what I have done, and that I never -meant to take it, after--after--_that_,--you know,--and that I did not -care for money only as father taught me I must have it, and that I am -sorry he ever saw me, and I never really wanted to be married and can't -be his wife again till I do." - -She spoke as if Guy would take her back of course if she only signified -her wish to come, and this kept me angry, though I was beginning to -soften a little with this unexpected phase of her character, and I might -have suffered her to stay till morning if she had signified a wish to do -so, but she did not. - -"I suppose I must go now if I catch the train," she said, moving toward -the door. "Good-bye, Fanny. I am sorry I ever troubled you." - -She held her little white ungloved hand toward me and then I came to -myself, and hearing the wind and rain, and remembering the lonely road -to the station, I said to her: - -"Stay, Daisy, I cannot let you go alone. Miss Hamilton will watch with -Guy while I go with you." - -"And who will come back with you? It will be just as dark and rainy -then," she said; but she made no objection to my plan, and in less than -five minutes Julia, who always slept in her dressing-gown so as to be -ready for any emergency, was sitting by Guy, and I was out in the dark -night with Daisy and our watch-dog Leo, who, at sight of his old -playmate, had leaped upon her and nearly knocked her down in his joy. - -"Leo is glad to see me," Daisy said, patting the dumb creature's head, -and in her voice there was a rebuking tone, which I resented silently. - -I was not glad to see her, and I could not act a part, but I wrapped my -waterproof around her and adjusted the hood over her hair, and thought -how beautiful she was, even in that disfiguring garb, and then we went -on our way, the young creature clinging close to me as peal after peal -of thunder rolled over our heads, and gleams of lightning lit up the -inky sky. She did not speak to me, nor I to her, till the red light on -the track was in sight, and we knew the train was coming. Then she asked -timidly: "Do you think Guy will die?" - -"Heaven only knows," I said, checking a strong impulse to add: "If he -does, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you killed him." - -I am glad now that I did not say it. And I was glad then, when Daisy, -alarmed perhaps by something in the tone of my voice, repeated her -question: - -"But do _you_ think he will die? If I thought he would I should wish to -die too. I like him, Miss Frances, better than any one I ever saw; like -him now as well as I ever did, but I do not want to be his wife, nor -anybody's wife, and that is just the truth. I am sorry he ever saw me -and loved me so well. Tell him that, Fanny." - -It was Fanny again, and she grasped my hand nervously, for the train was -upon us. - -"Promise me solemnly that if you think he is surely going to die you -will let me know in time to see him once more. Promise,--quick,--and -kiss me as a pledge." - -The train had stopped. There was not a moment to lose, and I promised, -and kissed the red lips in the darkness, and felt a remorseful pang when -I saw the little figure go alone into the car which bore her swiftly -away, while I turned my steps homeward with only Leo for my companion. - -I had to tell Julia about it, and I gathered up the four scraps of paper -from the floor where Daisy had thrown them, and joining them together -saw they really were the marriage settlement, and kept them for Guy, -should he ever be able to hear about it and know what it meant. There -was a telegram for me, the next evening, dated at Detroit, and bearing -simply the words, "Arrived safely," and that was all I heard of Daisy. -No one in town knew of her having been here but Julia and myself, and it -was better that they should not, for Guy's life hung on a thread, and -for many days and nights I trembled lest that promise, sealed by a kiss, -would have to be redeemed. - -That was three weeks ago, and Guy is better now and knows us all, and -to-day, for the first time, I have a strong hope that I am not to be -left alone, and I thank Heaven for that hope, and feel as if I were at -peace with all the world, even with Daisy herself, from whom I have -heard nothing since that brief telegram. - - ---- - - August 1st, ----. - -The shadow of death has passed from our house, and I can almost say the -shadow of sickness too, for though Guy is still weak as a child and thin -as a ghost, he is decidedly on the gain, and to-day I drove him out for -the third time, and hoped from something he said that he was beginning -to feel some interest in the life so kindly given back to him. Still he -will never be just the same. The blow stunned him too completely for him -to recover quite his old happy manner, and there is a look of age in his -face which pains me to see. He knows Daisy has been here, and why. I had -to tell him all about it, and sooner too than I meant to, for almost his -first coherent question to me after his reason came back was: - -"Where is Daisy? I am sure I heard her voice. It could not have been a -dream. Is she here, or has she been here? Tell me the truth, Fanny." - -So I told him, and showed him the bits of paper, and held his head on my -bosom, while he cried like a child. How he loves her still, and how glad -he was to know that she was not as mercenary as it would at first seem. -Not that her tearing up that paper will make any difference about the -money. She cannot give it to him, he says, until she is of age, neither -does he wish it at all, and he would not take it from her; but he is -glad to see her disposition in the matter; glad to have me think better -of her than I did, and I am certain that he is expecting to hear from -her every day, and is disappointed that he does not. He did not reproach -me as I thought he would when I told him about turning her out in the -rain; he only said: - -"Poor Daisy, did she get very wet? She is so delicate, you know. I hope -it did not make her sick." - -Oh, the love a man will feel for a woman, let her be ever so unworthy. I -cannot comprehend it. And why should I? an old maid like me, who never -loved any one but Guy. - - ---- - - August 30th, ----. - -In a roundabout way we have heard that Mr. McDonald is going away with -his wife and daughter. When the facts of the divorce were known, they -brought him into such disgrace with the citizens of Indianapolis, who -were perfectly indignant, and showed that they were in every possible -way, that he thought best to leave for a time till the storm was over, -and so they will go to South America, where there is a cousin Tom, who -is growing rich very fast. I cannot help certain thoughts coming into my -mind, any more than I can help being glad that Daisy is going out of the -country. Guy never mentions her now, and is getting to look and act -quite like himself. If only he _could_ forget her, we might be very -happy again, as Heaven grant we may. - - - - -CHAPTER VII.--FIVE YEARS LATER. - - -"Married, this morning, at St. Paul's church, by the Rev. Dr. ----, -assisted by the Rector, Guy Thornton, Esq., of Cuylerville, to Miss -Julia Hamilton, of this city." - -Such was the notice which appeared in a daily Boston paper one lovely -morning in September five years after the last entry in Miss Thornton's -journal. Guy had reached the point at last, when he could put Daisy from -his heart and take another in her place. He had never seen her, or heard -directly from her since the night she brought him the marriage -settlement and tore it in pieces, thinking thus to give him the money -beyond a doubt. That this did not change the matter one whit he knew, -for she could not give him the ten thousand settled upon her until she -was of age. She _was_ of age now, and had been for a year or more, and -to say the truth he had expected to hear from her when she was -twenty-one. To himself he had reasoned on this wise: "Her father told -her that the tearing up that paper made no difference, that she was -powerless of herself to act until she was of age, so she will wait -quietly till then before making another effort." And Guy thought how he -would not take a penny from her, but would insist upon her keeping it. -Still he should respect her all the more for her sense of justice and -generosity, he thought, and when her twenty-first birthday came and -passed, and week after week went by, and brought no sign from Daisy, -there was a pang in his heart and a look of disappointment on his face -which did not pass away until October hung her gorgeous colors upon the -hills of Cuylerville, and Julia Hamilton came to the Brown Cottage to -spend a few weeks with his sister. - -From an independent, self-reliant, energetic girl of twenty-two, Julia -had ripened into a noble and dignified woman of twenty-seven, with a -repose of manner which seemed to rest and quiet one, and which told -insensibly on Guy, until at last he found himself dreading to have her -go, and wishing to keep her with him always. The visit was lengthened -into a month; and when in November he went with her to Boston, he had -asked her to take Daisy's place, and be his second wife. Very freely -they talked of the little golden-haired girl, and Julia told him what -she had heard through a mutual acquaintance who had been on the same -vessel with the McDonalds when they returned from South America. Cousin -Tom was with them, a rich man then, and a richer now, for his gold mine -and his railroad had made him almost a millionaire, and it was currently -reported and believed that Mr. McDonald meant him to marry his daughter. -They were abroad now, the McDonalds and Tom, and Daisy, it was said, was -even more beautiful than in her early girlhood, and that to her natural -loveliness was added great cultivation and refinement of manner. She had -had the best of teachers while in South America, and was now continuing -her studies abroad with a view to further improvement. All this Julia -Hamilton told Guy, and then bade him think again before deciding to join -his life with hers. - -And Guy did think again, and his thoughts went across the sea after the -beautiful Daisy, and he tried to picture to himself what she must be now -that education and culture had set their seal upon her. But always in -the picture there was a dark background, where cousin Tom stood sentinel -with his bags of gold, and so, with a half unconscious sigh for what -"might have been," Guy dug still deeper the grave where, years before, -he had buried his love for Daisy, and to make the burial sure this time, -so that there should be no future resurrection, he put over the grave a -head-stone, on which was written a new hope and a new love, both of -which centered in Julia Hamilton. - -And so they were engaged, and after that there was no wavering on his -part,--no looking back to a past, which seemed like a happy dream, from -which there had been a horrible awaking. - -He loved Julia at first quietly and sensibly, and loved her more and -more as the winter and spring went by, and brought the day when he stood -again at the altar, and for the second time took upon him the marriage -vow. It was a very quiet wedding, with only a few friends present, and -Miss Frances was the bridesmaid, in a gown of silver gray; but Julia's -face was bright with the certainty of a happiness long desired; and if -in Guy's heart there lingered the odor of other bridal flowers, withered -now and dead, and the memory of other marriage bells than those which -sent their music on the air that September morning, and if a pair of -sunny blue eyes seemed looking into his, he made no sign, and his face -wore an expression of perfect content as he took his second bride for -better or worse, just as he once had taken little Daisy. In Daisy's case -it had proved all for the worse, but now there was a suitableness in the -union which boded future happiness, and many a hearty wish for good was -sent after the newly-married pair, whose destination was New York. - -It was nearly dark when they reached the hotel, and quite dark before -dinner was over. Then Julia suddenly remembered that an old friend of -hers was boarding in the house, and suggested going to her room. - -"I'd send my card," she said, blushingly, "only she would not know me by -the new name, so if you do not mind my leaving you a moment, I'll go and -find her myself." - -Guy did not mind, and Julia went out and left him alone. Scarcely was -she gone when he called to mind a letter which had been forwarded to him -from Cuylerville, and which he had found awaiting him on his return -from, the church that morning. Not thinking it of much consequence, he -had thrust it in his pocket and in the excitement forgotten it till now. -He had dressed for dinner and worn his wedding-coat, and he took the -letter out and looked at it a moment, and wondered whom it was from, as -people often wait and wonder, when breaking the seal would settle the -matter so soon. It was post-marked in New York, and, felt heavy in his -hand, and he opened it at last, and found that the outer envelope -inclosed another one, on which his name and address were written in a -handwriting once so familiar to him, and the sight of which made him -start and breathe heavily for a moment as if the air had suddenly grown -thick and burdensome. - -It was Daisy's handwriting, which he had never thought to see again; for -after his engagement with Julia he had burned every vestige of a -correspondence it was sorrow now to remember. One by one, and with a -steady hand, he had dropped Daisy's letters into the fire and watched -them turning into ashes, and thought how like his love for her they were -when nothing remained of them but the thin gray tissue his breath could -blow away. The four scraps of the marriage settlement which Daisy had -brought him on that night of storm he kept, because they seemed to -embody something good and noble in the girl; but the letters she had -written him were gone past recall, and he had thought himself cut loose -from her forever,--when, lo! there had come to him an awakening to the -bitterness of the past in a letter from the once-loved wife, whose -delicate handwriting made him grow faint and sick for a moment, as he -held the letter in his hand and read: - - "_Guy Thornton, Esq._, - "Brown Cottage, - "Politeness of Mr. Wilkes. Cuylerville, Mass." - -Why had she written, and what had she to say to him? he wondered, and -for a moment he felt tempted to tear the letter up and never know what -it contained. - -Better, perhaps, had he done so,--better for him, and better for the -fond new wife whose happiness was so perfect, and whose trust in his -love was so strong. - -But he did not tear it up. He opened it, and another chapter will tell -us what he read. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.--DAISY'S LETTER. - - -It was dated at Rouen, France, and it ran as follows: - -"_Dear, Dear Guy_:--I am all alone here in Rouen, with no one near me -who speaks English, or knows a thing of Daisy Thornton, as she was, or -as she is now, for I am Daisy Thornton here. I have taken the old name -again and am an English governess in a wealthy French family; and this -is how it came about: I have left Berlin and the party there, and am -earning my own living, for three reasons, two of which concern cousin -Tom, and one of which has to do with you and that miserable settlement -which has troubled me so much. I thought when I brought it back and tore -it up that was the last of it, and felt so happy and relieved. Father -missed it, of course; and I told him the truth and that I could never -touch a penny of your money if I was not your wife. He did not say a -word, and I supposed it was all right, and never dreamed that I was -actually clothed and fed on the interest of that ten thousand dollars. -Father would not tell me, and you did not write. Why didn't you, Guy? I -expected a letter so long and went to the office so many times and cried -a little to myself, and said Guy has forgotten me. - -"After the divorce, which I know now was a most unjust and mean affair, -the people in Indianapolis treated us with so much coldness and neglect -that at last we went to South America,--father, mother and I,--went to -live with Tom. He wanted me for his wife before you did, but I could not -marry Tom. He is very rich now, and we lived with him, and then we all -came to Europe and have traveled everywhere, and I have had teachers in -everything, and people say I am a fine scholar, and praise me much; and, -Guy, I have tried to improve just to please _you_; believe me, Guy, just -to please _you_. Tom was as a brother,--a dear, good big bear of a -brother, whom I loved as such, but nothing more. Even were you dead, I -could not marry Tom after knowing you; and I told him so when in Berlin -he asked me for the sixth time to be his wife. I had to tell him -something hard to make him understand, and when I saw how what I said -hurt him cruelly and made him cry because he was such a great big, -awkward, dear old fellow, I put my arms around his neck and cried with -him, and tried to explain, and that made him ten times worse. Oh, if -people only would not love me so much it would save me a great deal of -sorrow. - -"You see, I tell you this because I want you to know exactly what I have -been doing these five years, and that I have never thought of marrying -Tom or anybody. I did not think I could. I felt that if I belonged to -anybody it was you, and I cannot have Tom, and father was very angry and -taunted me with living on Tom's money, which I did not know before, and -then he accidently let out about the marriage settlement, and that hurt -me worse than the other. - -"Oh, Guy, how can I give it up? Surely there must be a way now I am of -age. I was so humiliated about it, and after all that passed between -father and Tom and me, I could not stay in Berlin, and never be sure -whose money was paying for my bread, and when I heard that Madame -Lafarcade, a French lady, who had spent the winter in Berlin, was -wanting an English governess for her children, I went to her, and as the -result, am here at her beautiful country-seat, just out of the city, -earning my own living and feeling so proud to do it; only, Guy, there is -an ache in my heart, a heavy, throbbing pain which will not leave me day -or night, and this is how it came there. - -"Mother wrote that you were about to marry Miss Hamilton. Letters from -home brought her the news, which she thinks is true. Oh, Guy, it is not, -it cannot be true. You must not go quite away from me now, just as I am -coming back to you. For, Guy, I am--or rather, I have come, and a great -love, such as I never felt before, fills me full almost to bursting. I -always liked you, Guy; but when we were married I did not know what it -was to love,--to feel my pulses quicken as they do now just at thought -of you. If I had, how happy I could have made you, but I was a silly -little girl, and married life was distasteful to me, and I was willing -to be free, though always, way down in my heart, was something which -protested against it, and if you knew just how I was influenced and led -on insensibly to assent, you would not blame me so much. The word -_divorce_ had an ugly sound to me, and I did not like it, and I have -always felt as if bound to you just the same. It would not be right for -me to marry Tom, even if I wanted to, which I do not. I am yours, -Guy,--only yours, and all these years I have studied and improved for -your sake, without any fixed idea, perhaps, as to what I expected or -hoped. But when Tom spoke the last time it came to me suddenly what I -was keeping myself for, and, just as a great body of water, when freed -from its prison walls rolls rapidly down a green meadow, so did a mighty -love for you take possession of me and permeate my whole being, until -every nerve quivered with joy, and when Tom was gone I went away alone -and cried more for my new happiness, I am afraid, than for him, poor -fellow. And yet I pitied him, too, and as I could not stay in Berlin -after that I came away to earn money enough to take me back to you. For -I am coming, or I was before I heard that dreadful news which I cannot -believe. - -"Is it true, Guy? Write and tell me it is not, and that you love me -still and want me back, or, if it in part is true, and you are engaged -to Julia, show her this letter and ask her to give you up, even if it is -the very day before the wedding,--for you are mine, and, sometimes, when -the children are troublesome, and I am so tired and sorry and homesick, -I have such a longing for a sight of your dear face, and think if I -could only lay my aching head in your lap once more I should never know -pain or weariness again. - -"Try me, Guy. I will be so good and loving, and make you so happy, and -your sister, too,--I was a bother to her once. I'll be a comfort now. -Tell her so, please; tell her to bid me come. Say the word yourself, and -almost before you know it I'll be there. - -"Truly, lovingly, waitingly, your wife, - - "_Daisy_." - -"P. S.--To make sure of this letter's safety I shall send it to New York -by a friend, who will mail it to you. - - "Again, lovingly, _Daisy Thornton_." - - ---- - -This was Daisy's letter, which Guy read with such a pang in his heart as -he had never known before, even when he was smarting the worst from -wounded love and disappointed hopes. Then he had said to himself, "I can -never suffer again as I am suffering now," and now, alas, he felt how -little he had ever known of that pain which tears the heart and takes -the breath away. - -"God help her," he moaned,--his first thought, his first prayer for -Daisy, the girl who called herself his wife, when just across the hall -was the bride of a few hours,--another woman who bore his name and -called him her husband. - -With a face as pale as ashes, and hands which shook like palsied hands, -he read again that pathetic cry from her whom he now felt he had never -ceased to love; ay, whom he loved still, and whom, if he could, he would -have taken to his arms so gladly, and loved and cherished as the -priceless thing he had once thought her to be. The first moments of -agony which followed the reading of the letter were Daisy's wholly, and -in bitterness of soul the man she had cast off and thought to take again -cried out, as he stretched his arms toward an invisible form: "Too late, -darling; too late. But had it come two months, one month, or even one -week ago, I would,--I would, --have gone to you over land and sea, but -now,--another is in your place, another is my wife; Julia,--poor, -innocent Julia. God help me to keep my vow; God help me in my need." - -He was praying now; and Julia was the burden of his prayer. And as he -prayed there came into his heart an unutterable tenderness and pity for -her. He had thought he loved her an hour ago; he believed he loved her -now, or if he did not, he would be to her the kindest, most thoughtful -of husbands, and never let her know, by word or sign, of the terrible -pain he should always carry in his heart. "Darling Daisy, poor Julia," -he called the two women who were both so much to him. To the first his -love, to the other his tender care, for she was worthy of it. She was -noble, and good, and womanly; he said many times and tried to stop the -rapid heart-throbs and quiet himself down to meet her when she came back -to him with her frank, open face and smile, in which there was no shadow -of guile. She was coming now; he heard her voice in the hall speaking to -her friend, and thrusting the fatal letter in his pocket he rose to his -feet, and steadying himself upon the table, stood waiting for her, as, -flushed and eager, she came in. - -"Guy, Guy, what is it? Are you sick?" she asked, alarmed at the pallor -of his face and the strange expression of his eyes. - -He was glad she had thus construed his agitation, and he answered that -he was faint and a little sick. - -"It came on suddenly, while I was sitting here. It will pass off as -suddenly," he said, trying to smile, and holding out his hand, which she -took at once in hers. - -"Is it your heart, Guy? Do you think it is your heart?" she continued, -as she rubbed and caressed his cold, clammy hand. - -A shadow of pain or remorse flitted across Guy's face as he replied: - -"I think it is my heart, but I assure you there is no danger,--the worst -is over. I am a great deal better." - -And he was better with that fair girl beside him, her face glowing with -excitement, and her soft hands pressing his. Perfectly healthy herself, -she must have imparted some life and vigor to him, for he felt his pulse -grow steadier beneath her touch, and the blood flow more regularly -through his veins. If only he could forget that crumpled letter which -lay in his vest pocket, and seemed to burn into his flesh; forget that, -and the young girl watching for an answer and the one word "come," he -might be happy yet, for Julia was one whom any man could love and be -proud to call his wife. And Guy said to himself that he did love her, -though not as he once loved Daisy, or as he could love her again were he -free to do so, and because of that full love withheld, he made a mental -vow that his whole life should be given to Julia's happiness, so that -she might never know any care or sorrow from which he could shield her. - -"And Daisy?" something whispered in his ear. - -"I must and will forget her," he sternly answered, and the arm he had -thrown around Julia, who was sitting with him upon the sofa, tightened -its grasp until she winced and moved a little from him. - -He was very talkative that evening, and asked his wife many questions -about her friends and the shopping she wished to do, and the places they -were to visit; and Julia, who had hitherto regarded him as a quiet, -silent man, given to few words, wondered at the change, and watched the -bright red spots on his cheeks, and thought how she would manage to have -medical advice for that dreadful heart-disease, which had come like a -nightmare to haunt her bridal days. - -Next morning there came a Boston paper containing a notice of the -marriage, and this Guy sent to Daisy, with only the faint tracing of a -pencil to indicate the paragraph. - -"Better so than to write," he thought; though he longed to add the -words, "Forgive me, Daisy; your letter came too late." - -And so the paper was sent, and, after a week or two, Guy went back to -his home in Cuylerville, and the blue rooms which Julia had fitted up -for Daisy five years before became her own by right. And Fanny Thornton -welcomed her warmly to the house, and by many little acts of -thoughtfulness showed how glad she was to have her there. And Julia was -very happy save when she remembered the heart-disease which she was sure -Guy had, and for which he would not take advice. "There was nothing the -matter with his heart, unless it were too full of love," he told her -laughingly, and wondered to himself if in saying this he was guilty of a -lie, inasmuch as his words misled her so completely. - -After a time, however, there came a change, and thoughts of Daisy ceased -to disturb him as they once had done. No one ever mentioned her to him, -and since the receipt of her letter he had heard no tidings of her until -six months after his marriage, when there came to him the ten thousand -dollars, with all the interest which had accrued since the settlement -first was made. There was no word from Daisy herself, but a letter from -a lawyer in Berlin, who said all there was to say with regard to the -business, but did not tell where Miss McDonald, as he called her, was. - -Then Guy wrote Daisy a letter of thanks, to which there came no reply, -and as time went on the old wound began to heal, the grave to close -again; and when, at last, one year after his marriage, they brought him -a beautiful little baby girl and laid it in his arms, and then a few -moments later let him into the room where the pale mother lay, he -stooped over her, and kissing her fondly, said; - -"I never loved you half as well as I do now!" - -It was a pretty child, with dark blue eyes, and hair in which there was -a gleam of gold, and Guy, when asked by his wife what he would call her, -said; - -"Would you object to Margaret?" - -Julia knew what he meant, and like the true, noble woman she was, -offered no objection to Guy's choice, and herself first gave the pet -name of Daisy to her child, on whom Guy settled the ten thousand dollars -sent to him by the Daisy over the sea. - - - - -CHAPTER IX.--DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE. - - -Watching, waiting, hoping, saying to herself in the morning, "It will -come before night," and saying to herself at night, "It will be here -to-morrow morning." Such was Daisy's life, even before she had a right -to expect an answer to her letter. - -Of the nature of Guy's reply she had no doubt. He had loved her once, he -loved her still, and he would take her back of course. There was no -truth in that rumor of another marriage. Possibly her father, whom she -understood now better than she once did, had gotten the story up for the -sake of inducing her through pique to marry Tom; but if so, his plan -would fail. Guy would write to her, "Come!" and she should go, and more -than once she counted the contents of her purse and added to it the sum -due her from Madame Lafarcade, and wondered if she would dare venture on -the journey with so small a sum. - -"You so happy and white, too, this morning," her little pupil, Pauline, -said to her one day, when they sat together in the garden, and Daisy was -indulging in a fanciful picture of her meeting with Guy. - -"Yes, I am happy," Daisy said, rousing from her revery; "but I did not -know I was pale, or white, as you term it, though, now I think of it, I -do feel sick and faint. It's the heat, I suppose. Oh! there is Max, with -the mail! He is coming this way! He has,--he certainly has something for -me!" - -Daisy's cheeks were scarlet now, and her eyes were bright as stars as -she went forward to meet the man who brought the letters to the house. - -"Only a paper!--is there nothing more?" she asked, in an unsteady voice, -as she took the paper in her hand, and recognizing Guy's handwriting, -knew almost to a certainty what was before her. - -"Oh, you are sick, I must bring some water," Pauline exclaimed, alarmed -at Daisy's white face and the peculiar tone of her voice. - -"No, Pauline, stay; open the paper for me," Daisy said, feeling that it -would be easier so than to read it herself, for she knew what was there, -else he would never have sent her a paper and nothing more. - -Delighted to be of some use, and a little gratified to open a foreign -paper, Pauline tore off the wrapper, starting a little at Daisy's quick, -sharp cry as she made a rent across the handwriting. - -"Look, you are tearing into my name, which he wrote," Daisy said, and -then remembering herself she sank back into her seat in the garden -chair, while Pauline wondered what harm there was in tearing an old -soiled wrapper, and why her governess should take it so carefully in her -hand and roll it up as if it had been a living thing. - -There were notices of new books, and a runaway match in high life, and a -suicide on Sumner street, and a golden wedding in Roxbury, and the -latest fashions from Paris, into which Pauline plunged with avidity, -while Daisy listened like one in a dream, asking, when the fashions were -exhausted, "Is that all? Are there no deaths or marriages?" - -Pauline had not thought of that,--she would see; and she hunted through -the columns till she found Guy's pencil mark, and read: - -"Married, this morning, in----church, by the Rev. Dr.----, assisted by -the rector, Guy Thornton, Esq., of Cuylerville, to Miss Julia Hamilton, -of this city." - -"Yes, yes, I see,--I know, it's very hot here, isn't it? I think I will -go in," Daisy said, her fingers working nervously with the bit of paper -she held. - -But Pauline was too intent on the name Thornton to hear what Daisy said, -and she asked: "Is Mr. Thornton your friend or your relative?" - -It was natural enough question, and Daisy roused herself to answer it, -and said, quickly: "He is the son of my husband's father." - -"Oh, _oui_," Pauline rejoined, a little mystified as to the exact -relationship existing between Guy Thornton and her teacher's husband, -who she supposed was dead, as Daisy had only confided to madame the fact -of a divorce. - -"What date is the paper?" Daisy asked, and on being told she said softly -to herself: "I see; it was too late." - -There was in her mind no doubt as to what the result would have been had -her letter been in time; no doubt of Guy's preference for herself, no -regret that she had written to him, except that the knowledge that she -loved him at last would make him wretched with thinking "what might have -been," and with the bitter pain which cut her heart like a knife there -was mingled a pity for Guy, who would perhaps suffer more than she did, -if that were possible. She never once thought of retribution, or of -murmuring against her fate, but accepted it meekly, albeit she staggered -under the load and grew faint as she thought of the lonely life before -her, and she so young. - -Slowly she went back to her room, while Pauline walked up and down the -garden, trying to make out the relationship between the newly-married -Thornton and her teacher. - -"The son of her husband's father?" she repeated, until at last a meaning -dawned upon her, and she said: "Then he must be her brother-in-law; but -why didn't she say so? Maybe, though, that is the English way of putting -it;" and having thus settled the matter Pauline joined her mother, who -was asking for Mrs. Thornton. - -"Gone to her room, and her brother-in-law is married. It was marked in a -paper, and I read it to her, and she's sick," Pauline said, without, -however, in the least connecting the sickness with the marriage. - -Daisy did not come down to dinner that night, and the maid who called -her the next morning reported her as ill and acting very strangely. -Through the summer a malarious fever had prevailed to some extent in and -about Rouen, and the physician whom Madame Lafarcade summoned to the -sick girl expressed a fear that she was coming down with it, and ordered -her kept as quiet as possible. - -"She seems to have something weighing on her mind. Has she heard any bad -news from home?" he asked, as in reply to his question where her pain -was the worst, Daisy always answered: - -"It reached him too late--too late, and I am so sorry." - -Madame knew of no bad news, she said, and then as she saw the foreign -paper lying on the table, she took it up, and, guided by the pencil -marks, read the notice of Guy Thornton's marriage, and that gave her the -key at once to Daisy's mental agitation. Daisy had been frank with her -and told as much of her story as was necessary, and she knew that the -Guy Thornton married to Julia Hamilton had once called Daisy his wife. - -"Excuse me, she is, or she has something on her mind, I suspect," she -said to the physician, who was still holding Daisy's hand and looking -anxiously at her flushed cheeks and bright, restless eyes. - -"I thought so," he rejoined, "and it aggravates all the symptoms of her -fever. I shall call again to-night." - -He did call, and found his patient worse, and the next day he asked of -Madame Lafarcade: - -"Has she friends in this country? If so, they ought to know." - -A few hours later and in his lodgings at Berlin, Tom read the following -dispatch: - -"Mrs. Thornton is dangerously ill. Come at once." - -It was directed to Mr. McDonald, who with his wife had been on a trip to -Russia, and was expected daily. Feeling intuitively that it concerned -Daisy, Tom had opened it, and without a moment's hesitation packed his -valise and leaving a note for the McDonalds when they should return, -started for Rouen. Daisy did not know him, and in her delirium she said -things to him and of him which hurt him cruelly. Guy was her theme, and -the letter which went "too late, too late." Then she would beg of Tom to -go for Guy, to bring him to her, and tell him how much she loved him and -how good she would be if he would only take her back. - -"Father wants me to marry Tom," she said in a whisper, and Tom's heart -almost stood still as he listened; "and Tom wanted me, too, but I -couldn't, you know, even if he were worth his weight in gold. I could -not love him. Why, he's got red hair, and such great freckles on his -face, and big feet and hands with frecks on them. Do you know Tom?" - -"Yes, I know him," Tom answered, sadly, forcing down a choking sob, -while the "big hand with the great frecks on it," smoothed the golden -hair tenderly, and pushed it back from the burning brow. - -"Don't talk any more, Daisy; it tires you so," he said, as he saw her -about to speak again. - -But Daisy was not to be stopped, and she went on: - -"Tom is good, though; so good, but awkward, and I like him ever so much, -but I can't be his wife. I cannot. I cannot." - -"He doesn't expect it now, or want it," came huskily from Tom, while -Daisy quickly asked: - -"Doesn't he?" - -"No, never any more; so, put it from your mind and try to sleep," Tom -said, and again the freckled hands smoothed the tumbled pillows and -wiped the sweat drops from Daisy's face, while all the time the great -kind heart was breaking, and the hot tears were rolling down the -sunburnt face Daisy thought so ugly. - -Tom had heard from Madame Lafarcade of Guy's marriage and, like her, -understood why Daisy's fever ran so high, and her mind was in such -turmoil. But for himself he knew there was no hope, and with a feeling -of death in his heart he watched by her day and night, yielding his -place to no one, and saying to madame, when she remonstrated with him -and bade him care for his own health: - -"It does not matter for me. I would rather die than not." - -Daisy was better when her mother came,--saved, the doctor said, more by -Tom's care and nursing than by his own skill, and then Tom gave up his -post, and never went near her unless she asked for him. His "red hair -and freckled face" were constantly in his mind, making him loathe the -very sight of himself. - -"She cannot bear my looks, and I will not force myself upon her," he -thought; and so he staid away, but surrounded her with every luxury -money could buy, and as soon as she was able had her removed to a pretty -little cottage which he rented and fitted up for her, and where she -would be more at home and quieter than at Madame Lafarcade's. - -And there one morning when he called to inquire for her, he, too, was -smitten down with the fever which he had taken with Daisy's breath the -many nights and days he watched by her without rest or sufficient food. -There was a faint, followed by a long interval of unconsciousness, and -when he came to himself he was in Daisy's own room lying on Daisy's -little bed, and Daisy herself was bending anxiously over him, with a -flush on her white cheeks and a soft, pitiful look in her blue eyes. - -"What is it? Where am I?" he asked, and Daisy replied: - -"You are here in my room; and you've got the fever, and I'm going to -take care of you, and I'm so glad. Not glad you have the fever," she -added, as she met his look of wonder, "but glad I can repay in part all -you did for me, you dear, noble Tom! And you are not to talk," and she -laid her hand on his mouth as she saw him about to speak. "I am strong -enough; the doctor says so, and I'd do it if he didn't, for you are the -best, the truest friend I have." - -She was rubbing his hot, feverish hands, and though the touch of her -cool, soft fingers was so delicious, poor Tom thought of the big frecks -so obnoxious to the little lady, and drawing his hands from her grasp -hid them beneath the clothes. Gladly, too, would he have covered his -face and hair from her sight, but this he could not do and breathe, so -he begged her to leave him, and send some one in her place. But Daisy -would not listen to him. - -He had nursed her day and night, she said, and she should stay with him, -and she did stay through the three weeks when Tom's fever ran higher -than hers had done, and when Tom in his ravings talked of things which -made her heart ache with a new and different pain from that already -there. - -At first there were low whisperings and incoherent mutterings, and when -Daisy asked him to whom he was talking he answered: - -"To that other one over in the corner. Don't you see him? He is waiting -for me till the fever eats me up. There's a lot of me to eat, I'm so big -and awkward, overgrown,--that's what Daisy said. You know Daisy, don't -you? a dainty little creature, with such delicacy of sight and touch. -She doesn't like red hair; she said so, when we thought the man in the -corner was waiting for her; and she doesn't like my freckled face and -hands,--big hands, she said they were, and yet how they have worked like -horses for her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy, I have loved her ever since she was a -child, and I drew her to school on my sled and cut her doll's head off -to tease her. Take me quick, please, out of her sight, where my freckled -face won't offend her." - -He was talking now to that other one, the man in the corner, who like -some grim sentinel stood there day and night, while Daisy kept her -tireless watch and Tom talked on and on,--never to her,--but always to -the other one, the man in the corner, whom he begged to take him away. - -"Bring out your boat," he would say. "It's time we were off, for the -tide is at its height, and the river is running so fast. I thought once -it would take Daisy, but it left her and I am glad. When I am fairly -over and there's nothing but my big freckled hulk left, cover my face, -and don't let her look at me, though I'll be white then, not red. Oh, -Daisy, Daisy, my darling, you hurt me so cruelly." - -Those were terrible days for Daisy, but she never left her post, and -stood resolutely between the sick man and _that other one_ in the -corner, until the latter seemed to waver a little; his shadow was not so -black, his presence so all-pervading, and there was hope for Tom, the -doctor said. His reason came back at last, and the fever left him, weak -as a little child, with no power to move even his poor wasted hands, -which lay outside the counterpane and seemed to trouble him, for there -was a wistful, pleading look in his gray eyes as they went from the -hands to Daisy, and his lips whispered faintly: "Cover." - -She understood him, and with a rain of tears spread the sheet over them, -and then on her knees beside him, said to him, amid her sobs: - -"Forgive me, Tom, for what I said when I was crazy. You are not -repulsive to me. You are the truest, best, and dearest friend I ever -had, and I--I--Oh, Tom, live for my sake, and let me prove how--Oh, Tom, -I wish I had never been born." - -Daisy did not stay with Tom that night. There was no necessity for it, -and she was so worn and weary with watching that the physician declared -she must have absolute rest or be sick again. So she staid away, and in -a little room by herself fought the fiercest battle she had ever fought, -and on her knees, with tears and bitter cries, asked for help to do -right. Not for help to know what was right. She felt sure that she did -know that, only the flesh was weak, and there were chords of love still -clinging to a past she scarcely dared think of now, lest her courage -should fail her. Guy was lost to her forever; it was a sin even to think -of him as she must think if she thought at all, and so she strove to put -him from her,--to tear his image from her heart, and put another in its -place,--Tom, whom she pitied so much, and whom she could make so happy. - -"No matter for myself," she said at last. "No matter what I feel, or how -sharp the pain in my heart, if I only keep it there and never let Tom -know. I can make him happy, and I will." - -There was no wavering after that decision,--no regret for the "might -have been,"--but her face was white as snow, and about the pretty mouth -there was a quivering of the muscles, as if the words were hard to -utter, when next day she went to Tom, and sitting down beside him, asked -how he was feeling. His eyes brightened a little when he saw her, but -there was a look on his face which made Daisy's pulse quicken with a -nameless fear, and his voice was very weak, as he replied: - -"They say I am better; but, Daisy, I know the time is near for me to go. -I shall never get well, and I do not wish to, though life is not a gift -to be thrown away easily, and on some accounts mine has been a happy -one, but the life beyond is better, and I feel sure I am going to it." - -"Oh, Tom, Tom, don't talk so. You must not leave me now," Daisy cried, -all her composure giving way as she fell on her knees beside him, and -taking both his hands in hers wet them with her tears. "Tom," she began, -when she could speak, "I have been bad to you so often, and worried and -wounded you so much; but I am sorry, so sorry,--and I've thought it all -over real earnestly and seriously, and made up my mind, and I want you -to get well and ask me that,--that--question again,--you have asked so -many times,--and--and--Tom,--I will say--yes--to it now, and try so hard -to make you happy." - -Her face was crimson as if with shame, and she dared not look at Tom -until his silence startled her. Then she stole a glance at him, and met -an expression which prompted her to go on recklessly: - -"Don't look so incredulous, Tom. I am in earnest. I mean what I say, -though it may be unmaidenly to say it. Try me, Tom. I will make you -happy, and though at first I cannot love you as I did Guy when I sent -him that letter, the love will come, born of your great goodness and -kindness of heart. Try me, Tom, won't you?" - -She kissed his thin white hands where the freckles showed more plainly -than ever, and which Tom tried to free from her; she held them fast and -looked steadily into the face, which shone for a moment with a joy so -great that it was almost handsome, and when she said again: "Will you, -Tom?" the pale lips parted with an effort to speak, but no sound was -audible, only the chin quivered and the tears stood in Tom's eyes as he -battled with the temptation. Should he accept the sacrifice? It would be -worth trying to live for, if Daisy could be his wife, but ought he to -join her life with his? Could she ever learn to love him? No, she could -not, and he must put her from him, even though she came asking him to -take her. Thus Tom decided, and turning his face to the wall, he said -with a choking sob: - -"No, Daisy. It cannot be. Such happiness is not for me now. I must not -think of it, for I am going to die. Thank you, darling, just the same. -It was kind in you and well meant, but it cannot be. I could not make -you happy. I am not like Guy; never could be like him, and you would -hate me after a while, and the chain would hurt you cruelly. No, Daisy, -I love you too well,--and yet, Daisy,--Daisy,--why do you tempt me -so,--if it could be, I might perhaps get well, I should try so hard." - -He turned suddenly toward her, and winding both his arms around her, -drew her to him in a quick, passionate embrace, crying piteously over -her, and saying: - -"My darling, my darling, if it could have been, but it's too late -now,--God is good and will take me to Himself. I thought a great deal -before I was sick, and believe I am a better man, and that Jesus is my -friend, and I am going to him. I'm glad you told me what you have. It -will make my last days happier, and when I am gone, you will find that I -did well with you." - -He put her from him then, for faintness and exhaustion were stealing -over him, and that was the last that ever passed between him and Daisy -on the subject which all his life had occupied so much of his thoughts. -The fever had left him, it is true, but he seemed to have no vital force -or rallying power, and, after a few days, it was clear even to Daisy -that Tom's life was drawing to a close. "The man in the corner," who had -troubled him so much, was there again, and Tom was very happy. He had -thought much of death and what lay beyond during those days when Daisy's -life hung in the balance, and the result of the much thinking had been a -full surrender of himself to God, who did not forsake him when the dark, -cold river was closing over him. - -Calm and peaceful as the setting of the summer sun was the close of his -life, and up to the last he retained his consciousness, with the -exception of a few hours, when his mind wandered a little, and he talked -to "that other one," whom no one could see, but whose presence all felt -so vividly. - -"It would have been pleasant, and for a minute I was tempted to take her -at her word," he said; "but when I remembered my hair, and face, and -hands, and how she liked nothing which was not comely, I would not run -the chance of being hated for my repulsive looks. Poor little Daisy! she -meant it all right, and I bless her for it, and am glad she said it, but -she must not look at me when I'm dead. The frecks she dislikes so much -will show plainer then. Don't let her come near, or, if she must, cover -me up,--cover me up,--cover me from her sight." - -Thus he talked, and Daisy, who knew what he meant, wept silently by his -side, and kept the sheet closely drawn over the hands he was so anxious -to conceal. He knew her at the last, and bade her farewell, and told her -she had been to him the dearest thing in life; and Daisy's arm was round -him, supporting him upon the pillow, and Daisy's hand wiped the death -moisture from his brow, and Daisy's lips were pressed to his dying face, -and her ear caught his faint whisper: - -"God bless you, darling! I am going home! Good-bye." - -"The man in the corner,--that other one,"--had claimed him, and Daisy -put gently from her the lifeless form which had once been Tom. - -They buried him there in France, on a sunny slope, where the grass was -green and the flowers blossomed in the early spring; and, when Mr. -McDonald examined his papers, he found to his surprise that, with the -exception of an annuity to himself, and several legacies to different -charitable institutions, Tom had left to Daisy his entire fortune, -stipulating only that one-tenth of all her income should be yearly given -back to God, who had a right to it. - - - - -CHAPTER X.--MISS MCDONALD. - - -She took the name again, and with it, also, Margaret, feeling that Daisy -was far too girlish an appellation for one who clad herself in the -deepest mourning, and felt, when she stood at poor Tom's grave, more -wretched and desolate than many a wife has felt when her husband was -buried from sight. - -Tom had meant to make her parents independent of her so that she need -not have them with her unless she chose to do so, for knowing Mr. -McDonald as he did, he thought she would be happier without him; but God -so ordered it that within three months after poor Tom's death, they made -another grave beside his, and Daisy and her mother were alone. - -It was spring time, and the two desolate women bade adieu to their dead, -and made their way to England, and from there to Scotland, where among -the heather hills they passed the summer in the utmost seclusion. - -Here Daisy had ample time for thought, which dwelt mostly upon the past -and the happiness she cast away when she consented to the sundering of -the tie which had bound her to Guy Thornton. - -"Oh, how could I have been so foolish and so weak," she said, as with -intense contempt for herself, she read over the journal she had kept at -Elmwood during the first weeks of her married life. - -Guy had said it would be pleasant for her to refer to its pages in after -years, little dreaming with what sore anguish of heart poor Daisy would -one day weep over the senseless things recorded there. - -"Can it be I was ever that silly little fool?" she said bitterly, as she -finished her journal. "And how could Guy love me as he did. Oh, if I but -had the chance again, I would make him so happy. Oh, Guy, Guy,--my -husband still,--mine more than Julia's, if you could know how much I -love you now; nor can I feel it wrong to do so, even though I never hope -to see your face again, Guy, Guy, the world is so desolate, and I am -young, only twenty-three, and life is so long and dreary with nothing to -live for or to do. I wish almost that I were dead like Tom, only I dare -not think I should go to the Heaven where he has gone." - -In her sorrow and loneliness, Daisy was fast sinking into an unhealthy -morbid state of mind from which nothing seemed to rouse her. - -"Nothing to live for,--nothing to do," was her lament, until one golden -September day, when there came a turning point in her life, and she -found there was something to do. - -There was no regular service that Sunday in the church where she usually -attended, and as the day was fine and she was far too restless to remain -at home, she proposed to her mother that they walk to a little chapel -about a mile away, where a young Presbyterian clergyman was to preach. - -She had heard much of his eloquence, and as his name was McDonald, he -might possibly be some distant relative, inasmuch as her father was of -Scotch descent, and she felt a double interest in him, and with her -mother was among the first who entered the little humble building, and -took a seat upon one of the hard, uncomfortable benches near the pulpit. - -The speaker was young,--about Tom's age,--and with a look on his florid -face and a sound in his voice so like that of the dead man that Daisy -half started to her feet when he first took his stand in front of her, -and announced the opening hymn. His text was, "Why stand ye here all the -day idle?" and so well did he handle it, and so forcible were his -gestures and eloquent his style of delivery, that Daisy listened to him -spell-bound, her eyes fixed intently upon his glowing face, and her ears -drinking in every word he uttered. - -After dwelling a time upon the loiterers in God's vineyard, the idlers -from choice, who worked not for lack of an inclination to do so, he -spoke next of the class whose whole life was a weariness for want of -something to do, and to these he said, "Have you never read how, when -the disciples rebuked the grateful woman for wasting upon her Master's -head what might have been sold for three hundred pence, and given to the -poor, Jesus said unto them, 'The poor ye have with you always,' and is -it not so, my hearers? Are there no poor at your door to be fed, no -hungry little ones to be cared for out of the abundance which God has -only loaned for this purpose? Are there no wretched homes which you can -make happier, no aching hearts which a kind word would cheer? Remember -there is a blessing pronounced for even the cup of cold water, and how -much greater shall be the reward of those who, forgetting themselves, -seek the good of others and turn not away from the needy and the -desolate. See to it, then, you to whom God has given much. See to it -that you sit not down in idle ease, wasting upon yourself alone the -goods designed for others; for to whom much is given of him much shall -be required." - -Attracted, perhaps, by the deep black of Daisy's attire, or the -something about her which marked her as different from the mass of his -hearers, the speaker seemed to address the last of his remarks directly -to her, and had the dead Tom risen from his grave and spoken with her -face to face, she could hardly have been more affected than she was. The -resemblance was so striking and the voice so like her cousin's, that she -felt as if she had received a message direct from him; or, if not from -him, she surely had from God, whose almoner she henceforth would be. - -That day was the beginning of a new life to her. Thenceforth there must -be no more repining; no more idle, listless days, no more wishing for -something to do. There was work all around her, and she found it and did -it with a will,--first, from a sense of duty, and at last for the real -pleasure it afforded her to carry joy and gladness to the homes where -want and sorrow had been so long. - -Hearing that there was sickness and destitution among the miners in -Peru, where her possessions were, she went there early in November, and -many a wretched heart rejoiced because of her, and many a lip blessed -the beautiful lady whose coming among them was productive of so much -good. Better dwellings, better wages, a church, a school-house followed -in her footsteps, and then, when everything seemed in good working -order, there came over her a longing for her native country, and the -next autumn found her in New York, where in a short space of time -everybody knew of the beautiful Miss McDonald, who was a millionaire and -who owned the fine house and grounds in the upper part of the city not -far from the Park. - -Here society claimed her again, and Daisy, who had no morbid fancies -now, yielded in part to its claims, and became, if not a belle, at least -a favorite, whose praises were in every mouth. But chiefly was she known -and loved by the poor and the despised whom she daily visited, and to -whom her presence was like the presence of an angel. - -"You do look lovely and sing so sweet; I know there's nothing nicer in -Heaven," said a little piece of deformity to her one day as it lay dying -in her arms. "I'se goin' to Heaven, which I shouldn't have done if -you'se hadn't gin me the nice bun and told me of Jesus. I loves Him now, -and I'll tell Him how you bringed me to Him." - -Such was the testimony of one dying child, and it was dearer to Daisy -than all the words of flattery ever poured into her ear. As she had -brought that little child to God so she would bring others, and she made -her work among the children especially, finding there her best -encouragement and greatest success. - -Once when Guy Thornton chanced to be in the city and driving in the -Park, he saw a singular sight--a pair of splendid bays arching their -graceful necks proudly, their silver-tipped harness flashing in the -sunlight, and their beautiful mistress radiant with happiness as she sat -in her open carriage, not with gayly-dressed friends, but amid a group -of poorly-clad pale-faced little ones, to whom the Park was paradise, -and she the presiding angel. - -"Look,--that's Miss McDonald," Guy's friend said to him, "the greatest -heiress in New York, and I reckon the one who does the most good. Why, -she supports more old people and children and runs more ragged schools -than any half-dozen men in the city, and I don't suppose there's a den -in New York where she has not been, and never once, I'm told, was she -insulted, for the vilest of them stand between her and harm. Once a -miscreant on Avenue A knocked a boy down for accidently stepping in a -pool of water and spattering her white dress in passing. Friday nights -she has a reception for these people, and you ought to see how well they -behave. At first they were noisy and rough, and she had to have the -police, but now they are quiet and orderly as you please, Perhaps you'd -like to go to one. I know Miss McDonald, and will take you with me." - -Guy said he should not be in town on Friday, as he must, return to -Cuylerville the next day, and with a feeling he could not quite analyze -he turned to look at the turnout which excited so much attention. But it -was not so much at the handsome bays and the bevy of queer-looking -children he gazed, as at the lady in their midst, clad in velvet and -ermine, with a long white feather falling among the curls of her bright -hair. When Daisy first entered upon her new life, she had affected a -nun-like garb as most appropriate, but after a little child said to her -once: "I don't like your black gown all the time. I likes sumptin' -bright and pretty," she changed her dress and gave freer scope to her -natural good taste and love of what was becoming. And the result showed -the wisdom of the change, for the children and inmates of the dens she -visited, accustomed only to the squallor and ugliness of their -surroundings, hailed her more rapturously than they had done before, and -were never weary of talking of the beautiful woman who was not afraid to -wear her pretty clothes into their wretched houses, which gradually grew -more clean and tidy for her sake. - -"It wasn't for the likes of them gownds to trail through sich truck," -Bridget O'Donohue said, and on the days when Daisy was expected, she -scrubbed the floor, which, until Daisy's advent had not known water for -years, and rubbed and polished the one wooden chair kept sacred for the -lady's use. - -Other women, too, caught Biddy's spirit and scrubbed their floors and -their children's faces on the day when Miss McDonald was to call, and -when she came, she was watched narrowly, lest by some chance a speck of -dirt should fall upon her, and her becoming dress and handsome face were -commented on and remembered as some fine show which had been seen for -nothing. Especially did the children like her in her bright dress, and -the velvet and ermine in which she was clad when Guy met her in the Park -were worn more for their sakes, than for the gaze of those to whom such -things were no novelties. To Guy she looked more beautiful than he had -ever seen her before, and there was in his heart a feeling like a want -of something lost, as her carriage disappeared from, view and he lost -sight of the fair face and form which had once been his own. - -The world was going well with Guy, for though Dick Trevylian had paid no -part of the one hundred thousand dollars, and he still lived in the -Brown Cottage on the hill, he was steadily working his way to -competency, if not to wealth. His profession as lawyer, which he had -resumed, yielded him a remunerative income, while his contributions to -different magazines were much sought after, so that to all human -appearance he was prosperous and happy. Prosperous in his business, and -happy in his wife and little ones, for there was now a second child, a -baby Guy of six weeks old, and when on his return from New York the -father bent over the cradle of his boy, and kissed his baby face, that -image seen in the Park seemed to fade away, and the caresses he gave to -Julia had in them no faithlessness or insincerity. She was a noble -woman, and had made him a good wife, and he loved her truly, though with -a different, less absorbing, less ecstatic love than he had given to -Daisy. But he did not tell her of Miss McDonald. Indeed, that name was -never spoken now, nor was any reference ever made to her except when the -little Daisy sometimes asked where was the lady for whom she was named, -and why she did not send her a doll. - -"I hardly think she knows there is such a chit as you," Guy said to her -once, when sorely pressed on the subject; and then the child wondered -how that could be; and wished she was big enough to write her a letter -and ask her to come and see her. - -Every day after that little Daisy played "make b'leve Miss Mack-Dolly" -was there, said Mack-Dolly being represented by a bundle of shawls tied -up to look like a figure and seated in a chair. At last there came to -the cottage a friend of Julia's, a young lady from New York, who knew -Miss McDonald, and who, while visiting in Cuylerville, accidentally -learned that she was the divorced wife, of whose existence she knew, but -of whom she had never spoken to Mrs. Thornton. Hearing the little one -talking one day to Miss Mack-Dolly, asking her why she never wrote, nor -sent a "sing" to her _sake-name_, the young lady said: - -"Why don't you send Miss McDonald a letter? You tell me what to say and -I'll write it down for you, but don't let mamma know till you see if you -get anything." - -The little girl's fancy was caught at once with the idea, and the -following letter was the result: - - "_Brown Cottage_, 'Most Tissmas time. - -"_Dear Miss Mac-Dolly_:--I'se an 'ittle dirl named for you, I is, Daisy -Thornton, an' my papa is Mr. Guy, an' mam-ma is Julia, and 'ittle -brother is Guy, too--only he's a baby, and vomits up his dinner and ties -awfully sometimes; an' I knows anoder 'ittle dirl named for somebody who -dives her 'sings,' a whole lot, an' why doesn't youse dive me some, when -I'se your sake-name, an' loves you ever so much, and why you never turn -here to see me? I wish you would. I ask papa is you pretty, an' he tell -me yes, bootiful, an' every night I pays for you and say God bress papa -an' mam-ma, an' auntie, and Miss Mac-Dolly, and 'ittle brodder, an' make -Daisy a dood dirl, and have Miss Mac-Dolly send her sumptin' for -Tissmas, for Christ's sake. An' I wants a turly headed doll that ties -and suts her eyes when she does to seep, and wears a shash and a -pairesol, and anodder big dolly to be her mam-ma and pank her when she's -naughty, an' I wants an' 'ittle fat-iran, an' a cook-stove, an' -washboard. I'se dot a tub. An' I wants some dishes an' a stenshun table, -an' 'ittle bedstead, an' yuffled seets, an' pillars, an' bue silk kilt, -an' ever many sings which papa cannot buy, cause he hasn't dot the -money. Vill you send them, Miss Mac-Dolly, pese, an' your likeness, too. -I wants to see how you looks. My mam-ma is pretty, with back hair an' -eyes, but she's awful old--I dess. How old is you? Papa's hair is some -dray, an' his viskers, too. My eyes is bue. - - "Yours, respectfully, "_Daisy Thornton_." - - ---- - -Miss McDonald had been shopping since ten in the morning, and her -carriage had stood before dry goods stores, and toy shops, and candy -stores, while bundle after bundle had been deposited on the cushions and -others ordered to be sent. But she was nearly through now, and, just as -it was beginning to grow dark in the streets, she bade her coachman -drive home, where dinner was waiting for her in the dining-room, and her -mother was waiting in the parlor. Mrs. McDonald was not very well, and -had kept her room all day, but she was better that night, and came down -to dine with her daughter. The December wind was cold and raw, and a few -snowflakes fell on Daisy's hat and cloak as she ran up the steps and -entered the warm, bright room, which seemed so pleasant when contrasted -with the dreariness without. - -"Oh, how nice this is, and how tired and cold I am!" she said, as she -bent over the blazing fire. - -"Are you through with your shopping?" Mrs. McDonald asked, in a -half-querulous tone, as if she did not altogether approve of her -daughter's acts. - -"Yes, all through, except a shawl for old Sarah Mackie, and a few more -toys for Biddy Warren's blind boy," Daisy said, and her mother replied: -"Well, I'm sure I shall be glad for your sake when it is over. You'll -make youself sick, and you are nearly worn out now, remembering everbody -in New York." - -"Not quite everybody, mother," Daisy rejoined, cheerfully; "only those -whom everybody forgets,--the poor, whom we have with us always. Don't -you remember the text, and the little kirk where we heard it preached -from? But come,--dinner is ready, and I am hungry, I assure you." - -She led the way to the handsome dining-room, and took her seat at the -table, looking, in her dark street dress, as her mother had said, pale -and worn, as if the shopping had been very hard upon her. And yet it was -not so much the fatigue of the day which affected her as the remembrance -of a past she did not often dare to recall. - -It was at Christmas time years ago that she first met with Guy, and all -the day long, as she turned over piles of shawls, and delaines, and -flannels, or ordered packages of candy, and bonbons, and dollies by the -dozen, her thoughts had been with Guy and the time she met him at Leiter -and Field's and he walked home with her. It seemed to her years and -years ago, and the idea of having lived so long made her feel old and -tired and worn. But the nice dinner and the cheer of the room revived -her, and her face looked brighter and more rested when she returned to -the parlor, and began to show her mother her purchases. - -Daisy did not receive many letters except on business, and, as these -usually came in the morning, she did not think to ask if the postman had -left her anything; and so it was not until her mother had retired and -she was about going to her own room, that she saw a letter lying on the -hall-stand. Miss Barker, who had instigated the letter, had never -written to her more than once or twice, and then only short notes, and -she did not recognize the handwriting at once. But she saw it was -post-marked Cuylerville, and a sick, faint sensation crept over her as -she wondered who had sent it, and if it contained news of Guy. It was -long since she had heard of him,--not, in fact, since poor Tom's death; -and she knew nothing of the little girl called for herself, and thus had -no suspicion of the terrible shock awaiting her, when at last she broke -the seal. Miss Barker had written a few explanatory lines, which were as -follows: - - "_Cuylerville_, Dec., 18--. - -"_Dear Miss McDonald_:--Since saying good-bye to you last June, and -going off to the mountains and seaside, while you, like a good -Samaritan, stayed in the hot city to look after 'your people,' I have -flitted hither and thither until at last I floated out to Cuylerville to -visit Mrs. Guy Thornton, who is a friend and former schoolmate of mine. -Here,--not in the house, but in town,--I have heard a story which -surprised me not a little, and I now better understand that sad look I -have so often seen on your face without at all suspecting the cause. - -"Dear friend, pardon me, won't you, for the liberty I have taken since -knowing your secret? You would, I am sure, if you only knew what a dear, -darling little creature Mr. Thornton's eldest child is. Did you know he -had called her Daisy for you? He has, and with her blue eyes and bright -auburn hair, she might pass for your very own, with the exception of her -nose, which is decidedly _retrousse_. She is three years old, and the -most precocious little witch you ever saw. What think you of her making -up a bundle of shawls and aprons, and christening it _Miss Mac-Dolly_, -her name for you, and talking to it as if it were really the famous and -beautiful woman she fancies it to be? She is your 'sake-name,' she says, -and before I knew the facts of the case, I was greatly amused by her -talk to the bundle of shawls which she reproached for never having sent -her anything. When I asked Julia (that's Mrs. Thornton) who Miss -Mac-Dolly was, she merely answered, 'the lady for whom Daisy was named,' -and that was all I knew until the gossips enlightened me, when, without -a word to any one, I resolved upon a liberty which I thought I could -venture to take with you. I suggested the letter which I inclose, and -which I wrote exactly as the words came from the little lady's lips. -Neither Mr. Thornton, nor his wife, know aught of the letter, nor will -they unless you respond, for the child will keep her own counsel, I am -well assured. - -"Again forgive me if I have done wrong, and believe me, as ever, - - "Yours, sincerely, "_Ella Barker_." - - ---- - -Daisy's face was pale as ashes as she read Miss Barker's letter, and -then snatching up the other devoured its contents almost at a glance, -while her breath came in panting gasps, and her heart seemed trying to -burst through her throat. She could neither move nor cry out for a -moment, but sat like one turned to stone, with a sense of suffocation -oppressing her, and a horrible pain in her heart. She had thought the -grave was closed, the old wound healed by time and silence, and now a -little child had torn it open, and it was bleeding and throbbing again -with a pang such as she had never felt before, while there crept over -her such a feeling of desolation and loneliness, a want of something -unpossessed, as few have ever experienced. - -But for her own foolishness that sweet little child might have been -hers, she thought, as her heart went after the little one with an -indescribable yearning which made her stretch out her arms as if to take -the baby to her bosom and hold it there forever. Guy had called it for -_her_, and that touched her more than anything else. He had not -forgotten her then. She had never supposed he had, but to be thus -assured of it was very sweet, and as she thought of it, and read again -little Daisy's letter, the tightness about her heart and the choking -sensation in her throat began to give way, and one after another the -great tears rolled down her cheeks, slowly at first, but gradually -faster and faster until they fell in torrents, and a tempest of sobs -shook her frame, as with her head bowed upon her dressing-table she gave -vent to her grief. It seemed to her she never could stop crying or grow -calm again, for as often as she thought of the touching words, "I pays -for you," there came a fresh burst of sobs and tears, until at last -nature was exhausted, and with a low moan Daisy sank upon her knees and -tried to pray, the words which first sprang to her lips framing -themselves into thanks that somewhere in the world there was one who -prayed for her and loved her too, even though the love might have for -its object merely dolls, and candies, and toys. And these the child -should have in abundance, and Miss McDonald found herself longing for -the morrow in which to begin again the shopping she had thought was -nearly ended. - -It was in vain next day that her mother remonstrated against her going -out, pleading her white, haggard face and the rawness of the day. Daisy -was not to be detained at home, and before ten o'clock she was down on -Broadway, and the dolly with the "shash," and "pairesol," which she had -seen the day before under its glass case was hers for twenty-five -dollars, and the plainer bit of china, who was to be dollie's mother and -perform the parental duty of "panking her when she was naughty," was -also purchased, and the dishes, and the table, and stove, and bedstead, -with ruffled sheets, and pillow-cases, and blue satin spread, and the -washboard, and clothes-bars, and tiny wringer, and diverse other toys, -were bought with a disregard of expense which made Miss McDonald a -wonder to those who waited on her. Such a Christmas-box was seldom sent -to a child as that which Daisy packed in her room that night, with her -mother looking on and wondering what Sunday-school was to be the -recipient of all those costly presents, and suggesting that cheaper -articles would have answered just as well. - -Everything the child had asked for was there except the picture. That -Daisy dared not send, lest it should look too much like thrusting -herself upon Guy's notice and wound Julia his wife. - -Daisy was strangely pitiful in her thoughts of Julia, who would in her -turn have pitied her for her delusion, could she have known how sure she -was that but for the tardiness of that letter Guy would have chosen his -first love in preference to any other. - -And it was well that each believed herself first in the affection of the -man to whom Daisy wanted so much to send something as a proof of her -unalterable love. They were living still in the brown cottage; they were -not able to buy Elmwood back. Oh, if she only dared to do it, how gladly -her Christmas gift should be the handsome place which they had been so -proud of. But that would hardly do; Guy might not like to be so much -indebted to her; he was proud and sensitive in many points, and so she -abandoned the plan for the present, thinking that by and by she would -purchase and hold it as a gift to her namesake on her bridal day. That -will be better, she said, as she put the last article in the box and saw -it leave her door, directed to Guy Thornton's care. - - ---- - -Great was the surprise at the Brown Cottage, when, on the very night -before Christmas the box arrived and was deposited in the dining-room, -where Guy and Julia, Miss Barker and Daisy, gathered eagerly around it, -the later exclaiming: - -"I knows where it tum from, I do. My sake-name, Miss Mac-Dolly, send it, -see did. I writ and ask her would see, an' see hab." - -"What!" Guy said, as, man-like, he began deliberately to untie every -knot in the string which his wife in her impatience would have cut at -once. "What does the child mean? Do you know, Julia?" - -"I do. I'll explain," Miss Barker said, and in as few words as possible -she told what she had done, while Julia listened with a very grave face, -and Guy was pale to his lips as he went on untying the string and -opening the box. - -There was a letter lying on the top which he handed to Julia, who -steadied her voice to read aloud: - - "New York, December 22, 18--. - -"Darling little _sake-name_ _Daisy_:--Your letter made Miss Mack-Dolly -very happy, and she is so glad to send you the doll with a _shash_, and -the other toys. Write to me again and tell me if they suit you. God -bless you, sweet little one, is the prayer of - - "_Miss McDonald_." - -After that the grave look left Julia's face, and Guy was not quite so -pale, as he took out, one after another, the articles, which little -Daisy hailed with rapturous shouts and exclamations of delight. - -"Oh, isn't she dood, and don't you love her, papa?" she said, while Guy -replied: - -"Yes, it was certainly very kind in her, and generous. No other little -girl in town will have such a box as this." - -He was very white, and there was a strange look in his eyes, but his -voice was perfectly natural as he spoke, and one who knew nothing of his -former relations to Miss McDonald would never have suspected how his -whole soul was moved by this gift to his little daughter. - -"You must write and thank her," he said to Julia, who, knowing that this -was proper, assented without a word, and when on the morning after -Christmas Miss McDonald opened with trembling hands the envelope bearing -the Cuylerville post-mark, she felt a keen pang of disappointment in -finding only a few lines from Julia, who expressed her own and little -Daisy's thanks for the beautiful Christmas box, and signed herself: - - "Truly, _Mrs. Guy Thornton_." - -Not Julia, but Mrs. Guy, and that hurt Daisy more than anything else. - -"Mrs. Guy Thornton! Why need she thrust upon me the name I used to -bear?" she whispered, and her lip quivered a little, and the tears -sprang to her eyes as she remembered all that lay between the present -and the time when she had been Mrs. Guy Thornton. - -She was Miss McDonald now, and Guy was another woman's husband, and with -a bitter pain in her heart, she put away Julia's letter, saying, as she -did so, "And that's the end of that." - -The box business had not resulted just as she hoped it would. She had -thought Guy would write himself, and by some word or allusion assure her -of his remembrance, but instead, there had come to her a few perfectly -polite and well-expressed lines from Julia, who had the _impertinence_ -to sign herself Mrs. Guy Thornton! It was rather hard and sorely -disappointing, and for many days Miss McDonald's face was very white and -sad, and both the old and young whom she visited as usual wondered what -had come over the beautiful lady, to make her "so pale and sorry." - - - - -CHAPTER XI.--AT SARATOGA. - - -There were no more letters from Mrs. Guy Thornton until the next -Christmas, when another box went to little Daisy, and was acknowledged -as before. Then another year glided and a third box went to Daisy, and -then one summer afternoon in the August following, there came to -Saratoga a gay party from New York, and among other names registered at -one of the large hotels was that of Miss McDonald. It seemed to be her -party, or at least she was its center, and the one to whom the others -deferred as to their head. Daisy was in perfect health that summer, and -in unusually good spirits; and when in the evening, yielding to the -entreaties of her friends, she entered the ball-room, clad in flowing -robes of blue and white, with costly jewels on her neck and arms, she -was acknowledged at once as the star and belle of the evening. She did -not dance,--she rarely did that now, but after a short promenade through -the room she took a seat near the door, and was watching the gay -dancers, when she felt her arm softly touched, and turning saw her maid -standing by her, with an anxious, frightened look upon her face. - -"Come, please, come quick," she said, in a whisper; and following her -out, Miss McDonald asked what was the matter. - -"_This_, you must go away at once. I'll pack your things. I promised not -to tell, but I must. I can't see your pretty face all spoiled and ugly." - -"What do you mean?" the lady asked, and after a little questioning she -made out from the girl's statement, that in strolling on the back piazza -she had stumbled upon her first cousin, of whose whereabouts she had -known nothing for a long time. - -This girl, Marie, had, it seemed, come to Saratoga a week or ten days -before, with her master's family consisting of his wife and two little -children. As the hotel was crowded, they were assigned rooms for the -night in a distant part of the house, with a promise of something much -better on the morrow. In the morning, however, the lady, who had not -been well for some days, was too sick to leave her bed, and the doctor, -who was called in to see her, pronounced the disease,--here Sarah -stopped and gasped for breath, and looked behind her and all ways, and -finally whispered a word which made even Miss McDonald start a little -and wince with fear. - -"He do call it the _very-o-lord_," Sarah said, "but Mary says it's the -_very old one_ himself. She knows, she has had it, and you can't put -down a pin where it didn't have its claws. They told the landlord, who -was for putting them straight out of doors, but the doctor said the lady -must not be moved,--it was sure death to do it. It was better to keep -quiet, and not make a panic. Nobody need to know it in the house, and -their rooms are so far from everybody that nobody would catch it. So he -let them stay, and the gentleman takes care of her, and Mary keeps the -children in the next room, and carries and brings the things, and keeps -away from everybody. Two of the servants know it, and they've had it, -and don't tell, and she said I mustn't, nor come that side of the house, -but I must tell you so that you can leave to-morrow. The lady is very -bad, and nobody takes care of her but Mr. Thornton. Mary takes things to -the door, and leaves them outside where he can get them." - -"What did you call the gentleman?" Miss McDonald asked, her voice -faltering and her cheek blanching a little. - -"Mr. Thornton, from Cuylerville, a place far in the country," was the -girl's reply; and then, without waiting to hear more, Miss McDonald -darted away, and going to the office, turned the leaves of the Register -to the date of ten or eleven days ago, and read with a beating heart and -quick coming breath: - -"Mr. and Mrs. Guy Thornton, two children and servant. No. -- and --." - -Yes, it was Guy; there could be no mistake, and in an instant her -resolution was taken. Calling her maid, she sent for her shawl and hat, -and then, bidding her follow, walked away in the moonlight. The previous -summer when at Saratoga, she had received medical treatment from Dr. -Schwartz, whom she knew well, and to whose office she directed her -steps. He seemed surprised to see her at that hour, but greeted her -cordially, asked when she came to town and what he could do for her. - -"Tell me if this is still a safeguard," she said, baring her beautiful -white arm, and showing a large round scar. "Will this insure me against -disease?" - -The doctor's face flushed, and he looked uneasily at her as he took her -arm in his hand and examining the scar closely, said: - -"The points are still distinct. I should say the vaccination was -thorough." - -"But another will be safer. Have you fresh matter?" Daisy asked, and he -replied: - -"Yes, some just from a young, healthy cow. I never use the adulterated -stuff which has been humanized. How do I know what humors may be lurking -in the blood? Why, some of the fairest, sweetest babies are full of -scrofula." - -He was going on further with his discussion, when Daisy, who knew his -peculiarities, interrupted him. - -"Never mind the lecture now. Vaccinate me quick, and let me go." - -It was soon done; the doctor saying, as he put away his vial: - -"You were safe without it, I think, and with it you may have no fears -whatever." - -He looked at her curiously again as if asking what she knew or feared, -and observing the look, Daisy said to him: - -"Do you attend the lady at the hotel?" - -He bowed affirmatively and glanced uneasily at Sarah, who was looking on -in surprise. - -"Is she very sick?" was the next inquiry. - -"Yes, very sick." - -"And does no one care for her but her husband?" - -"No one." - -"Has she suffered for care,--a woman's care, I mean?" - -"Well, not exactly; and yet she might be more comfortable with a woman -about her. Women are naturally better nurses than men, and Mr. Thornton -is quite worn out, but it does not make much difference now; the -lady----" - -Daisy did not hear the last part of the sentence, and bidding him -good-night, she went back to the hotel as swiftly as she had left it, -while the doctor stood watching the flutter of her white dress, -wondering how she found it out, and if she would "tell and raise _Cain_ -generally." - -"Of course not. I know her better than that," he said, to himself. "Poor -woman" (referring then to Julia). "Nothing, I fear, can help her now." - -Meanwhile, Daisy had reached the hotel, and without going to her own -room, bade Sarah tell her the way to No. --. - -"What! Oh, Miss McDonald! You surely are not----" Sarah gasped, -clutching at the dress, which her mistress took from her grasp, saying: - -"Yes, I am going to see that lady. I know her, or of her, and I'm not -afraid. Must we let her die alone?" - -"But your face,--your beautiful face," Sarah said, and then Daisy did -hesitate a moment, and glancing into a hall mirror, wondered how the -face she saw there, and which she knew was beautiful, would look scarred -and disfigured as she had seen faces in New York. - -There was a momentary conflict, and then, with an inward prayer that -Heaven would protect her, she passed on down the narrow hall and knocked -softly at No. --, while Sarah stood wringing her hands in genuine -distress, and feeling as if her young mistress had gone to certain ruin. - - - - -CHAPTER XII.--IN THE SICK ROOM. - - -Julia had the small-pox in its most aggravated form. Where she took it, -or when, she did not know; nor did it matter. She _had_ it, and for ten -days she had seen no one but her husband and physician, and had no care -but such as Guy could give her. He had been unremitting in his -attention. Tender and gentle as a woman, he had nursed her night and -day, with no thought for himself and the risk he ran. It was a bad -disease at the best, and now in its worse type it was horrible, but -Julia bore up bravely, thinking always more of others than of herself, -and feeling so glad that Providence had sent them to those -out-of-the-way rooms, where she had at first thought she could not pass -a night comfortably. Her children were in the room adjoining, and she -could hear their little voices as they played together, or asked for -their mamma, and why they must not see her. Alas! they would never see -her again; she knew, and Guy knew it too. The doctor had told them so -when he left them that night, and between the husband and wife words had -been spoken such as are only said when hearts which have been one are -about to be severed for ever. - -To Julia there was no terror in death, save as it took her from those -she loved, her husband and her little ones, and these she had given into -God's keeping knowing His promises are sure. To Guy she had said: - -"You have made me so happy. I want you to remember when I am gone, that -I would not have one look or act of yours changed if I could, and yet, -forgive me, Guy, for saying it, but I know you must often have thought -of that other one whom, you loved first, and it may be best." - -Guy could not speak, but he smoothed her hair tenderly, and his tears -dropped upon the swollen face he could not kiss, as Julia went on. - -"But if you did, you never showed it in the least, and I bless you for -it. Take good care of my children; teach them to remember their mother, -and if in time there comes another in my place, and other little ones -than mine call you father, don't forget me quite, because I love you so -much. Oh, Guy, my darling, it is hard to say good-bye, and know that -after a little this world will go on the same as if I had never been. -Don't think I am afraid. I am not, for Jesus is with me, and I know I am -safe; but still there's a clinging to life, which has been so pleasant -to me. Tell your sister how I loved her. I know she will miss me, and be -good to my children, and if you ever meet _that other one_, tell -her,--tell her,--I----" - -The faint voice faltered here, and when it spoke again, it said: - -"Lift me up, Guy, so I can breathe better while I tell you." - -He lifted her up and held her in his arms, while through the open window -the summer air and the silver moonlight streamed, and in the distance -was heard the sound of music as the dance went merrily on. And just -then, when she was in the minds of both, Daisy came, and her gentle -knock broke the silence of the room and startled both Guy and Julia. - -Who was it that sought entrance to that death-laden, disease-poisoned -room? Not the doctor, sure, for he always entered unannounced, and who -else dared to come there? Thus Guy questioned, hesitating to answer the -knock, when to his utter surprise the door opened and a little figure, -clad in airy robes of white, with its bright hair wreathed with flowers -and gems, came floating in, the blue eyes shining like stars, and the -full red lips parted with the smile, half pleased, half shy, which Guy -remembered so well. - -"Daisy, Daisy!" he cried, and his voice rang like a bell through the -room, as, laying Julia's head back upon the pillow, he sprang to Daisy's -side, and taking her by the shoulder, pushed her gently toward the door, -saying: - -"Why have you come here? Leave us at once; don't you see? don't you -know?" and he pointed toward Julia, whose face showed so plainly in the -gaslight. - -"Yes, I know, and I came to help you take care of her. I am not afraid," -Daisy said, and freeing herself from his grasp, she walked straight up -to Julia and laid her soft white hand upon her head. "I am Daisy," she -said, "and I've come to take care of you. I just heard you were here. -How hot your poor head is; let me bathe it; shall I?" - -She went to the bowl, and wringing a cloth in ice water, bathed the sick -woman's head and held the cool cloth to the face and wiped the parched -lips and rubbed the feverish hands, while Guy stood, looking on, -bewildered and confounded, and utterly unable to say a word or utter a -protest to this angel, as it seemed to him, who had come unbidden to his -aid, forgetful of the risk she ran and the danger she incurred. Once, as -she turned her beautiful face to him and he saw how wondrously fair and -lovely it was, lovely with a different expression from any he had ever -seen there, it came over him with a thrill of horror that that face must -not be marred and disfigured with the terrible pestilence, and he made -another effort to send her away. But Daisy would not go. - -"I am not afraid," she said. "I have just been vaccinated, and there was -already a good scar on my arm; look!" and she pushed back her sleeve, -and showed her round, white arm with the mark upon it. - -Guy did not oppose her after that, but let her do what she liked, and -when, an hour later, the doctor came, he found his recent visitor -sitting on Julia's bed, with Julia's head lying against her bosom and -Julia herself asleep. Some word which sounded very much like -"thunderation" escaped his lips, but he said no more, for he saw in the -sleeping woman's face a look he never mistook. It was death; and ten -minutes after he entered the room Julia Thornton lay dead in Daisy's -arms. - -There was a moment or so of half consciousness, during which they caught -the words, "So kind in you; it makes me easier; be good to the children; -one is called for you, but Guy loved me too. Good-bye. I am going to -Jesus." - -That was the last she ever spoke, and a moment after she was dead. In -his fear lest the facts should be known to his guests, the host insisted -that the body should be removed under cover of the night, and as Guy -knew the railway officials would object to taking it on any train, there -was no alternative except to bury it in town; and so there was brought -to the room a close plain coffin, and Daisy helped lay Julia in it, and -put a white flower in her hair and folded her hands upon her bosom, and -then watched from the window the little procession which followed the -body out to the cemetery, where, in the stillness of the coming day, -they buried it, together with everything which had been used about the -bed, Daisy's party dress included; and when at last the full morning -broke, with stir and life in the hotel, all was empty and still in the -fumigated chamber of death, and in the adjoining room, clad in a simple -white wrapper, with a blue ribbon in her hair, Daisy sat with Guy's -little boy on her lap and her namesake at her side, amusing them as best -she could and telling them their mamma had gone to live with Jesus. - -"Who'll be our mamma now? We must have one. Will oo?" little Daisy -asked, as she hung about the neck of her new friend. - -She knew it was Miss Mack-Dolly, her "sake-name," and in her delight at -seeing her and her admiration of her great beauty, she forgot in part -the dead mamma on whose grave the summer sun was shining. - -The Thorntons left the hotel that day and went back to the house in -Cuylerville, which had been closed for a few weeks, for Miss Frances was -away with some friends in Connecticut. But she returned at once when she -heard the dreadful news, and was there to receive her brother and his -motherless little ones. He told her of Daisy when he could trust himself -to talk at all, of Julia's sickness and death, and Miss Frances felt her -heart go out as it had never gone before toward the woman about whom -little Daisy talked constantly. - -"Most bootiful lady," she said, "an' looked des like an 'ittle dirl, see -was so short, an' her eyes were so bue an' her hair so turly." - -Miss McDonald had won Daisy's heart, and knowing that made her own -happier and lighter than it had been since the day when the paper came -to her with the marked paragraph which crushed her so completely. There -had been but a few words spoken between herself and Guy, and these in -the presence of others, but at their parting he had taken her soft -little hand in his and held it a moment, while he said, with a choking -voice, "God bless you, Daisy. I shall not forgot your kindness to my -poor Julia, and if you should need,--but no, that is too horrible to -think of; may God spare you that. Good-bye." - -And that was all that passed between him and Daisy with regard to the -haunting dread which sent her in a few days to her own house in New -York, where, if the thing she feared came upon her, she would at least -be at home and know she was not endangering the lives of others. But God -was good to her, and though there was a slight fever with darting pains -in her back and a film before her eyes, it amounted to nothing worse, -and might have been the result of fatigue and over-excitement; and when, -at Christmas time, yielding to the importunities of her little namesake, -there was a picture of herself in the box sent to Cuylerville, the face -which Guy scanned even more eagerly than his daughter, was as smooth and -fair and beautiful as when he saw it at Saratoga, bending over his dying -wife. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII.--DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - - _New York_, June 14, 18--. - -To-morrow I am to take my old name of Thornton again, and be Guy's wife -once more. Nor does it seem strange at all that I should do so, for I -have never thought of myself as not belonging to him, even when I knew -he was married to another. And yet when that dreadful night at Saratoga -I went to Julia's room, there was in my heart no thought of this which -has come to me. I only wished to care for her and be a help to Guy. I -did not think of her dying, and after she was dead, there was not a -thought of the future in my mind until little Daisy put it there by -asking if I would be her mamma. Then I seemed to see it all, and -expected it up to the very day, six weeks ago, when Guy wrote to me, -"Daisy, I want you. Will you come to me again as my wife?" - -I was not surprised. I knew he would say it sometime, and I replied at -once, "Yes, Guy, I will." - -He has been here since, and we have talked it over, all the past when I -made him so unhappy, and when I, too, was so wretched, though I did not -say much about that, or tell him of the dull, heavy, gnawing pain which, -sleeping or waking, I carried with me so long, and only lost when I -began to live for others. I did speak of the letter, and said I had -loved him ever since I wrote it, and that his marrying Julia made no -difference, and then I told him of poor Tom, and what I said to him, not -from love but from a sense of duty, and when I told him how Tom would -not take me at my word, he held me close to him and said, "I am glad he -did not, my darling, for then you would never have been mine." - -I think we both wept over those two graves, one far off in sunny France, -the other in Saratoga, and both felt how sad it was that they must be -made in order to bring us together. Poor Julia! She was a noble woman, -and Guy did love her. He told me so, and I am glad of it. I mean to try -to be like her in those things wherein she excelled me. - -We are going straight to Cuylerville to the house where I never was but -once, and that on the night when Guy was sick and Miss Frances made me -go back in the thunder and rain. She is sorry for that, for she told me -so in the long, kind letter she wrote, calling me her little sister and -telling me how glad she is to have me back once more. Accidentally I -heard Elmwood was for sale, and without letting Guy know I bought it, -and sent him the deed, and we are going to make it the most attractive -place in the county. - -It will be our summer home, but in the winter my place is here in New -York with my people, who would starve and freeze without me. Guy has -agreed to that and will be a great help to me. He need never work any -more unless he chooses to do so, for my agent says I am a millionaire, -thanks to poor Tom, who gave me his gold mine and his interest in that -railroad. And for Guy's sake I am glad, and for his children, the -precious darlings; how much I love them already, and how kind I mean to -be to them both for Julia's sake and Guy's. Hush! That's his ring, and -there's his voice in the hall asking for Miss McDonald, and so for the -last time I write that name, and sign myself - - _Margaret McDonald_. - - ---- - - _Extracts from Miss Frances Thornton's Diary._ - - _Elmwood_, June 15th, --. - -I have been looking over an old journal, finished and laid away long -ago, and accidentally I stumbled upon a date eleven years back. It was -Guy's wedding day then; it is his anniversary now, and as on that June -day years ago I worked among my flowers, so have I been with them this -morning, and as then people from the Towers came into our beautiful -grounds, so they came to-day and praised our lovely place and said there -was no spot like it in all the country round. But Julia was not with -them. She will never come to us again. Julia is dead, and her grave is -in Saratoga, for Guy dare not have her moved, but he has erected a -costly monument to her memory, and the mound above her is like some -bright flower bed all the summer long, for he hires a man to tend it, -and goes twice each season to see that it is kept as he wishes to have -it. Julia is dead and Daisy is here again at Elmwood, which she -purchased with her own money, and fitted up with every possible -convenience and luxury. - -Guy is ten years younger than he used to be, and we are all so happy -with this little fairy, who has expanded into a noble woman, and whom I -love as I never loved a living being before, Guy excepted, of course. I -never dreamed when I turned her out into the rain that I should love her -as I do, or that she was capable of being what she is. I would not have -her changed in any one particular, and neither, I am sure, would Guy, -while the children fairly worship her, and must sometimes be troublesome -with their love and their caresses. - -It is just a year since she came back to us. We were in the small house -then, but Daisy's very presence seemed to brighten and beautify it, -until I was almost sorry to leave it last April for this grand place -with all its splendor. - -There was no wedding at all; that is, there were no invited guests, but -never had bride greater honor at her bridal than our Daisy had, for the -church where the ceremony was performed, at a very early hour in the -morning, was literally crowded with the halt, the lame, the maimed and -the blind; the slum of New York; gathered from every back street, and -by-lane, and gutter; Daisy's "people," as she calls them, who came to -see her married, and who, strangest of all, brought with them a present -for the bride; a beautiful family Bible, golden clasped and bound, and -costing fifty dollars. Sandy McGraw presented it, and he had written -upon the fly leaf, "To the dearest friend we ever had, we give this -book, as a slight token of how much we love her." Then followed, upon a -sheet of paper, the names of the donors and how much each gave. Oh, how -Daisy cried when she saw the _ten cents_, and the _five cents_, and the -_three cents_, and the _one cent_, and knew it had all been earned and -saved at some personal sacrifice for her. I do believe she would have -kissed every one of them if Guy had permitted it. She did kiss the -children and shook every hard, soiled hand there, and then Guy took her -away and brought her to our home, where she has been the sweetest, -merriest, happiest, little creature that ever a man called wife, or a -woman sister. She does leave her things round a little, to be sure, and -she is not always ready for breakfast. I guess she never will wholly -overcome those habits, but I can put up with them now better than I -could once. Love makes a vast difference in our estimate of others, and -she could scarcely ruffle me now, even if she kept breakfast waiting -every morning and left her clothes lying three garments deep upon the -floor. As for Guy,--but his happiness is something I cannot describe. -Nothing can disturb his peace, which is as firm as the everlasting -hills. He does not caress her as much as he did once, but his thoughtful -care of her is wonderful, and she is never long from his sight without -his going to seek her. - -May God bless them and keep them always as they are now, at peace with -Him and all in all to each other. - - - - THE END. - - - POPULAR NOVELS BY _MRS. MARY J. HOLMES._ - - _Tempest and Sunshine._ - _English Orphans._ - _Homestead on Hillside._ - _'Lena Rivers._ - _Meadow Brook._ - _Dora Deane._ - _Cousin Maude._ - _Marian Grey._ - _Edith Lyle._ - _Daisy Thornton._ - _Chateau d'Or_ (_New_). - - _Darkness and Daylight._ - _Hugh Worthington._ - _Cameron Pride._ - _Rose Mather._ - _Ethelyn's Mistake._ - _Millbank._ - _Edna Browning._ - _West Lawn._ - _Mildred_. - _Forrest House_ (_New_). - -"Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her books - are always entertaining, and she has the rare faculty of enlisting the - sympathy and affections of her readers, and of holding their attention - to her pages with deep and absorbing interest." - - All published uniform with this volume. Price $1.50 each. Sold - everywhere, and sent _free_ by mail on receipt of price. - -BY -G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers, -New York. - - - - - - *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may -use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative -works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and -printed and given away - you may do practically _anything_ with public -domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, -especially commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in your possession. If -you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works. Nearly all the individual works -in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting free access to electronic -works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg(tm) works in compliance with -the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg(tm) name -associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this -agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full -Project Gutenberg(tm) License when you share it without charge with -others. - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg(tm) work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with - almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away - or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License - included with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can -be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying -any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a -work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on -the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs -1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg(tm) License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg(tm). - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg(tm) web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(tm) works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works -provided that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg(tm) works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(tm) - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) - works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. -YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, -BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN -PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND -ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR -ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES -EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(tm) -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg(tm) work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(tm) - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(tm)'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg(tm) and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(tm) -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg(tm) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg(tm) eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/37467-8.zip b/37467-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4ef1d2b..0000000 --- a/37467-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/37467-h.zip b/37467-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9450d79..0000000 --- a/37467-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/37467-h/37467-h.html b/37467-h/37467-h.htm index 252f079..23b09b2 100644 --- a/37467-h/37467-h.html +++ b/37467-h/37467-h.htm @@ -436,27 +436,9 @@ pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap </style> </head> <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37467 ***</div> <div class="document" id="daisy-thornton"> <h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">DAISY THORNTON</h1> - -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="container language-en pgheader" xml:lang="en" id="pg-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the <a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a> -included with this eBook or online at -<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a>.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<div class="container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst">Title: Daisy Thornton</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Author: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37467]</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Language: English</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pnext" id="pg-start-line">*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON ***</p> </div> <div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> </div> @@ -3904,341 +3886,6 @@ by mail on receipt of price.</p> </div> <div class="vspace" style="height: 5em"> </div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line">*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON ***</p> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" xml:lang="en" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg"> -<span id="pg-footer"/><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">A Word from Project Gutenberg</h2> -<p class="pfirst">We will update this book if we find any errors.</p> -<p class="pnext">This book can be found under: <a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467">http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467</a></p> -<p class="pnext">Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set -forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to -protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge -for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not -charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is -very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as -creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. -They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do -practically <em class="italics">anything</em> with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution.</p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"/><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">The Full Project Gutenberg License</h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext">To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a>.</p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title">Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United -States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a -right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</p> -<blockquote><div> -<p class="pfirst">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div></blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work -can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without -paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing -access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with -or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements -of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of -the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in -paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst">You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst">You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst">You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst">You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact -the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™ -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title">Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</h4> -<p class="pfirst">Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</p> -<p class="pnext">Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a> .</p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title">Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</h4> -<p class="pfirst">The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</p> -<p class="pnext">The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are -scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is -located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) -596-1887, email <a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a>. Email contact links and up to date -contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext">For additional contact information:</p> -<blockquote><div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">Dr. Gregory B. Newby</div> -<div class="line">Chief Executive and Director</div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div></blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title">Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</h4> -<p class="pfirst">Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</p> -<p class="pnext">The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit <a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext">While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</p> -<p class="pnext">International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</p> -<p class="pnext">Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: <a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title">Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</h4> -<p class="pfirst">Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</p> -<p class="pnext">Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the -U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</p> -<p class="pnext">Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</p> -<p class="pnext">Corrected <em class="italics">editions</em> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. <em class="italics">Versions</em> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</p> -<p class="pnext">Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</p> -<blockquote><div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div></blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37467 ***</div> </body> </html> diff --git a/37467-rst.zip b/37467-rst.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e6763b0..0000000 --- a/37467-rst.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/37467-rst/37467-rst.rst b/37467-rst/37467-rst.rst deleted file mode 100644 index 4a7f14b..0000000 --- a/37467-rst/37467-rst.rst +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4443 +0,0 @@ -.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-
-
-.. meta::
- :PG.Id: 37467
- :PG.Title: Daisy Thornton
- :PG.Released: 2011-09-17
- :PG.Rights: Public Domain
- :PG.Producer: Roger Frank
- :PG.Producer: Mary Meehan
- :PG.Producer: the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
- :PG.Credits:
- :DC.Creator: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
- :MARCREL.ill:
- :DC.Title: Daisy Thornton
- :DC.Language: en
- :DC.Created: 1878
-
-.. role:: small-caps
- :class: small-caps
-
-==============
-DAISY THORNTON
-==============
-
-.. _pg-header:
-
-.. container:: pgheader language-en
-
- .. style:: paragraph
- :class: noindent
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
- almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
- re-use it under the terms of the `Project Gutenberg License`_
- included with this eBook or online at
- http://www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-
-
- |
-
- .. _pg-machine-header:
-
- .. container::
-
- Title: Daisy Thornton
-
- Author: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes
-
- Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37467]
-
- Language: English
-
- Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
- |
-
- .. _pg-start-line:
-
- \*\*\* START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON \*\*\*
-
- |
- |
- |
- |
-
- .. _pg-produced-by:
-
- .. container::
-
- Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
-
- |
-
-
-
-
-.. class:: center large
-
- | BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES,
-
- | AUTHOR OF
- | :small-caps:`Tempest and Sunshine.—'Lena Rivers.—Darkness and Daylight.`
- | :small-caps:`—Marian Grey.—English Orphans.—Hugh Worthington.—Millbank.`
- | :small-caps:`—Ethelyn's Mistake.—Edna Browning, Etc., Etc.`
-
- "Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder."
-
-.. class:: center medium
-
- | NEW YORK:
- | Copyright, 1878, by
- | *G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers*.
- |
- | LONDON: S. LOW & CO.
- |
- | MDCCCLXXX.
- |
- | :small-caps:`Samuel Stodder`,
- | :small-caps:`Stereotyper`,
- | :small-caps:`90 Ann Street, N.Y.`
- |
- |
- | :small-caps:`Trow`
- | :small-caps:`Printing and Bookbinding`
- | :small-caps:`Company.`
-
-----
-
-.. contents:: CONTENTS
- :depth: 1
- :backlinks: entry
-
-----
-
-
-.. class:: center x-large
-
-DAISY THORNTON
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.—EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL.
-=========================================================
-
-.. class:: right
-
-Elmwood, June 15th, 18—.
-
-I have been working among my flowers
-all the morning, digging, weeding and
-transplanting, and then stopping a little
-to rest. My roses are perfect beauties this year, while
-my white lilies are the wonder of the town, and yet my
-heart was not with them to-day, and it was nothing to
-me that those fine people from the Towers came into
-the grounds while I was at work, "just to see and admire,"
-they said, adding that there was no place in
-Cuylerville like Elmwood. I know that, and Guy and
-I have been so happy here, and I loved him so much,
-and never dreamed what was in store for me until it
-came suddenly like a heavy blow.
-
-Why should he wish to marry, when he has lived
-to be thirty years old without a care of any kind, and
-has money enough to allow him to indulge his taste
-for books, and pictures, and travel, and is respected by
-everybody, and looked up to as the first man in town,
-and petted and cared for by me as few brothers have
-ever been petted and cared for? and if he must marry,
-why need he take a child of sixteen, whom he has only
-known since Christmas, and whose sole recommendation,
-so far as I can learn, is her pretty face?
-
-Daisy McDonald is her name, and she lives in Indianapolis,
-where her father is a poor lawyer, and as
-I have heard, a scheming, unprincipled man. Guy
-met her last winter in Chicago, and fell in love at
-once, and made two or three journeys West on "important
-business," he said, and then, some time in
-May, told me he was going to bring me a sister, the
-sweetest little creature, with beautiful blue eyes and
-wonderful hair. I was sure to love her, he said, and
-when I suggested that she was very young, he replied
-that her youth was in her favor, as we could more
-easily mould her to the Thornton pattern.
-
-Little he knows about girls; but then he was perfectly
-infatuated and blind to everything but Daisy's
-eyes, and hair, and voice, which is so sweet and winning
-that it will speak for her at once. Then she is
-so dainty and refined, he said, and he asked me to see
-to the furnishing of the rooms on the west side of the
-house, the two which communicate with his own private
-library, where he spends a great deal of time
-with his books and writing. The room adjoining this
-was to be Daisy's boudoir or parlor, where she could sit
-when he was occupied and she wished to be near him.
-This was to be fitted up in blue, as she had expressed
-a wish to that effect, and he said no expense must be
-spared to make it as pretty and attractive as possible.
-So the walls were frescoed and tinted, and I spent two
-entire days in New York hunting for a carpet of the
-desirable shade, which should be right both in texture
-and design.
-
-Guy was exceedingly particular, and developed a
-wonderful proclivity to find fault with everything I
-admired. Nothing was quite the thing for Daisy, until
-at last a manufacturer offered to get a carpet up which
-was sure to suit, and so that question was happily settled
-for the time being. Then came the furniture, and
-unlimited orders were given to the upholsterer to do his
-best, and matters were progressing finely when order
-number two came from the little lady, who was sorry
-to seem so fickle, but her mamma, whose taste was
-perfect, had decided against *all* blue, and would Guy
-please furnish the room with drab trimmed with blue?
-
-"It must be a very delicate shade of drab," she wrote,
-and lest he should get too intense an idea, she would
-call it a *tint* of a *shade* of drab, or, better yet, a *hint*
-of a tint of a shade of drab would describe exactly
-what she meant, and be so entirely unique, and lovely,
-and *recherche*.
-
-Guy never swears, and seldom uses slang of any
-kind, but this was a little too much, and with a most
-rueful expression of countenance he asked me "what
-in thunder I supposed a hint of a tint of a shade of
-drab could be?"
-
-I could not enlighten him, and we finally concluded
-to leave it to the upholsterer, to whom Guy telegraphed
-in hot haste, bidding him hunt New York
-over for the desired shade. Where he found it I
-never knew; but find it he did, or something approximating
-to it,—a faded, washed-out color, which seemed
-a cross between wood-ashes and pale skim milk. A
-sample was sent up for Guy's approval, and then the
-work commenced again, when order number three
-came in one of those dainty little billets which used to
-make Guy's face radiant with happiness. Daisy had
-changed her mind again and gone back to the blue,
-which she always preferred as most becoming to her
-complexion.
-
-Guy did not say a single word, but he took the
-next train for New York, and staid there till the furniture
-was done and packed for Cuylerville. As I did
-not know where he was stopping, I could not forward
-him two letters which came during his absence, and
-which bore the Indianapolis post-mark. I suspect he
-had a design in keeping his address from me, and,
-whether Daisy changed her mind again or not, I never
-knew.
-
-The furniture reached Elmwood the day but one
-before Guy started for his bride, and Julia Hamilton,
-who was then at the Towers, helped me arrange the
-room, which is a perfect little gem, and cannot fail to
-please, I am sure. I wonder Guy never fancied Julia
-Hamilton. Oh, if he only had done so, I should not
-have as many misgivings as I now have, nor dread the
-future so much. Julia is sensible and twenty years
-old, and lives in Boston, and comes of a good family,
-and is every way suitable,—but when did a man ever
-choose the woman whom his sister thought suitable
-for him? And Guy is like other men, and this is his
-wedding day; and after a trip to Montreal, and Quebec,
-and Boston, and New York, and Saratoga, they
-are coming home, and I am to give a grand reception,
-and then subside, I suppose, into the position of the
-"old maid sister who will be dreadfully in the
-way."
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-September 15th, 18—.
-
-Just three months since I opened my journal, and,
-on glancing over what I wrote on Guy's wedding day,
-I find that in one respect at least I was unjust to the
-little creature who is now my sister, and calls me Miss
-Frances. Not by a word or look has she shown the
-least inclination to assume the position of mistress of
-the house, nor does she seem to think me at all in the
-way; but that she considers me quite an antediluvian
-I am certain, for, in speaking of something which happened
-in 1820, she asked if I remembered it! And I
-only three years older than Guy! But then she once
-called him a dear old grandfatherly man, and thought
-it a good joke that on their wedding tour she was mistaken
-for his daughter. She looks so young,—not sixteen
-even; but with those childish blue eyes, and that
-innocent, pleading kind of expression, she never can
-be old. She is very beautiful, and I can understand
-in part Guy's infatuation, though at times he hardly
-knows what to do with his pretty plaything.
-
-It was the middle of August when they came from
-Saratoga, sorely against her wishes, as I heard from
-the Porters, who were at the same hotel, and who
-have told me what a sensation she created, and how
-much attention she received. Everybody flattered
-her, and one evening, when there was to be a hop at
-Congress Hall, she received twenty bouquets from as
-many different admirers, each of whom asked her
-hand for the first dance. And even Guy tried some
-of the square dances,—with poor success, I imagine,
-for Lucy Porter laughed when she told me of it, and
-the mistakes he made; and I do not wonder, for my
-grave, scholarly Guy must be as much out of place in
-a ball-room as his little, airy, doll of a wife is in her
-place when there. I can understand just how she
-enjoyed it all, and how she hated to come to Elmwood,
-for she did not then know the kind of home she was
-coming to.
-
-It was glorious weather for August, and a rain of
-the previous day had washed all the flowers and
-shrubs, and freshened up the grass on the lawn, which
-was just like a piece of velvet, while everything
-around the house seemed to laugh in the warm afternoon
-sunshine as the carriage came up to the door.
-Eight trunks, two hat-boxes, and a guitar-case had
-come in the morning, and were waiting the arrival of
-their owner, whose face looked eagerly out at the
-house and its surroundings, and it seemed to me did
-not light up as much as it should have done under the
-circumstances.
-
-"Why, Guy, I always thought the house was
-brick," I heard her say, as the carriage door was
-opened by the coachman.
-
-"No, darling,—wood. Ah, there's Fan," was Guy's
-reply, and the next moment I had her in my arms.
-
-Yes, literally in my arms. She is such a wee little
-thing, and her face is so sweet, and her eyes so
-childish and wistful and her voice so musical and flute-like
-that before I knew what I was doing I lifted her
-from her feet and hugged her hard, and said I meant
-to love her, first for Guy's sake, and then for her own.
-Was it my fancy, I wonder, or did she really shrink
-back a little and put up her hands to arrange the
-bows, and streamers, and curls floating away from her
-like the flags on a vessel on some gala day.
-
-She was very tired, Guy said, and ought to lie
-down before dinner. Would I show her to her room
-with Zillah, her maid? Then for the first time I noticed
-a dark-haired girl who had alighted from the
-carriage and stood holding Daisy's traveling-bag and
-wraps.
-
-"Her waiting-maid, whom we found in Boston,"
-Guy explained, when we were alone. "She is so
-young and helpless, and wanted one so badly, that I
-concluded to humor her for a time, especially as I had
-not the most remote idea how to pin on those wonderful
-fixings which she wears. It is astonishing how
-many things it takes to make up the *tout ensemble* of a
-fashionable woman," Guy said, and I thought he
-glanced with an unusual amount of curiosity and
-interest at my plain cambric wrapper and smooth hair.
-
-Indeed he has taken it upon himself to criticise me
-somewhat; thinks I am too slim, as he expresses it,
-and that my head might be improved if it had a more
-snarly appearance. Daisy, of course, stands for his
-model, and her hair does not look as if it had been
-combed in a month, and yet Zillah spends hours over
-it. She,—that is, Daisy,—was pleased with her boudoir,
-and gave vent to sundry exclamations of delight
-when she entered it, skipped around like the child she
-is, and said she was so glad it was blue instead of that
-indescribable drab, and that room is almost the only
-thing she has expressed an opinion about since she
-has been here. She does not talk much except to
-Zillah, and then in French, which I do not understand.
-If I were to write just what I think I should say that
-she had expected a great deal more grandeur than she
-finds. At all events, she takes the things which I
-think very nice and even elegant as a matter of
-course, and if we were to set up a style of living equal
-to that of the queen's household, I do believe she
-would act as if she had been accustomed to it all her
-life, or, at least, that it was what she had a right to
-expect. I know she imagines Guy a great deal richer
-than he is; and that reminds me of something which
-troubles me.
-
-Guy has given his name to Dick Trevylian for
-one hundred thousand dollars. To be sure it is only
-for three months, and Dick is worth three times that
-amount, and is an old friend and every way reliable
-and honest. And still I did not want Guy to sign. I
-wonder why it is that women always jump at a conclusion
-without any apparent reason. Of course, I
-could not explain it, but when Guy told me what he
-was going to do, I felt in an instant as if he would
-have it all to pay, and told him so, but he only
-laughed at me and called me nervous and fidgety, and
-said a friend was good for nothing if he could not
-lend a helping hand occasionally. Perhaps that is
-true, but I was uneasy and shall be glad when the
-time is up and the paper canceled.
-
-Our expenses since Daisy came are double what
-they were before, and if we were to lose one hundred
-thousand dollars now we should be badly off. Daisy
-is a luxury Guy has to pay for, but he pays willingly
-and seems to grow more and more infatuated every
-day. "She is such a sweet-tempered, affectionate
-little puss," he says; and I admit to myself that she
-is sweet-tempered, and that nothing ruffles her, but
-about the affectionate part I am not so certain. Guy
-would pet her and caress her all the time if she would
-let him, but she won't.
-
-"O, please don't touch me. It is too warm, and
-you muss my dress," I have heard her say more than
-once when he came in and tried to put his arm about
-her or take her in his lap.
-
-Indeed, her dress seems to be uppermost in her
-mind, and I have known her to try on half a dozen
-different ones before she could decide in which she
-looked the best. No matter what Guy is doing, or
-how deeply he is absorbed in his studies, she makes
-him stop and inspect her from all points, and give his
-opinion, and Guy submits in a way perfectly wonderful
-to me who never dared to disturb him when
-shut up with his books.
-
-Another thing, too, he submits to which astonishes
-me more than anything else. It used to annoy him
-terribly to wait for anything or anybody. *He* was
-always ready, and expected others to be, but Daisy is
-just the reverse. Such dawdling habits I never saw
-in any person. With Zillah to help her dress she is
-never ready for breakfast, never ready for dinner,
-never ready for church, never ready for anything, and
-that, in a household accustomed to order and regularity, does put things back so, and make so much
-trouble.
-
-"Don't wait breakfast for me, please," she says,
-when she has been called for the third or fourth time,
-and if she can get us to sit down without her she
-seems to think it all right, and that she can be as long
-as she likes.
-
-I wonder that it never occurs to her that to keep
-the breakfast table round, as we must, makes the girls
-cross and upsets the kitchen generally. I hinted as
-much to her once when the table stood till ten o'clock,
-and she only opened her great blue eyes wonderingly,
-and said mamma had spoiled her she guessed, for it
-did not use to matter at home when she was ready,
-but she would try and do better. She bade Zillah call
-her at *five* the next morning, and Zillah called her,
-and then she was a half hour late. Guy doesn't like
-that, and he looked daggers on the night of the reception,
-when the guests began to arrive before she was
-dressed! And she commenced her toilet too, at three
-o'clock! But she was wondrously beautiful in her
-bridal robes, and took all hearts by storm. She is
-perfectly at home in society, and knows just what to
-do and say so long as the conversation keeps in the
-fashionable round of chit-chat, but when it drifts into
-deeper channels she is silent at once, or only answers in
-monosyllables. I believe she is a good French scholar,
-and she plays and sings tolerably well, and reads the
-novels as they come out, but of books and literature,
-in general, she is wholly ignorant, and if Guy thought
-to find in her any sympathy with his favorite studies
-and authors he is terribly mistaken.
-
-And yet, as I write all this, my conscience gives
-me sundry pricks as if I were wronging her, for in
-spite of her faults I like her ever so much, and like to
-watch her flitting through the house and grounds like
-the little fairy she is, and I hope the marriage may
-turn out well, and that she will improve with age, and
-make Guy very happy.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.—EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL.
-========================================
-
-
-.. class:: right
-
-September 20th, 18—.
-
-Three months married. Three months with
-Daisy all to myself, and yet not exactly to
-myself either, for of her own accord she
-does not often come where I am, unless it is just as I
-have shut myself up in my room, thinking to have a
-quiet hour with my books. Then she generally appears, and wants me to ride with her, or play croquet
-or see which dress is most becoming, and I always
-submit and obey her as if I were the child instead of
-herself.
-
-She *is* young, and I almost wonder her parents
-allowed her to marry. Fan hints that they were mercenary,
-but if they were they concealed the fact wonderfully
-well, and made me think it a great sacrifice
-on their part to give me Daisy. And so it was; such
-a lovely little darling, and so beautiful. What a sensation
-she created at Saratoga! and still I was glad to
-get away, for I did not fancy some things which were
-done there. I did not like so many young men around
-her, nor her dancing those abominable round dances
-which she seemed to enjoy so much. "Square dances
-were poky," she said, even after I tried them with her
-for the sake of keeping her out of that vile John Britton's
-arms. I have an impression that I made a spectacle
-of myself, hopping about like a magpie, but
-Daisy said, "I did beautifully," though she cried because
-I put my foot on her lace flounce and tore it,
-and I noticed that after that she always had some
-good reason why I should not dance again. "It was
-too hard work for me; I was too big and clumsy," she
-said, "and would tire easily. Cousin Tom was big
-and he never danced."
-
-By the way, I have some little curiosity with regard
-to that Cousin Tom who wanted Daisy so badly,
-and who, because she refused him, went off to South
-America. I trust he will stay there. Not that I am
-or could be jealous of Daisy, but it is better for cousins
-like Tom to keep away.
-
-Daisy is very happy here, though she is not quite
-as enthusiastic over the place as I supposed she would
-be, knowing how she lived at home. The McDonalds
-are intensely respectable, so she says; but her father's
-practice cannot bring him over two thousand a year,
-and the small brown house they live in, with only a
-grass-plot in the rear and at the side, is not to be compared
-with Elmwood, which is a fine old place, every
-one admits. It has come out gradually that she
-thought the house was brick and had a tower and billiard-room,
-and that we kept a great many servants,
-and had a fish-pond on the premises, and velvet carpets
-on every floor. I would not let Fan know this
-for the world, as I want her to like Daisy thoroughly.
-
-And she does like her, though this little pink and
-white pet of mine is a new revelation to her, and puzzles
-her amazingly. She would have been glad if I
-had married Julia Hamilton, of Boston; but those
-Boston girls are too strong-minded and positive to suit
-me. Julia is nice, it is true, and pretty, and highly
-educated, and Fan says she has brains and would make
-a splendid wife. As Fan had never seen Daisy she
-did not, of course, mean to hint that she had not
-brains, but I suspect even now she would be better
-pleased if Julia were here, but I should not. Julia is
-self-reliant; Daisy is not. Julia has opinions of her
-own and asserts them, too; Daisy does not. Julia can
-sew and run a machine; Daisy cannot. Julia gets up
-in the morning and goes to bed at night; Daisy does
-neither. Nobody ever waits for Julia; everybody
-waits for Daisy. Julia reads scientific works and
-dotes on metaphysics; Daisy does not know the meaning
-of the word. In short, Julia is a strong, high-toned,
-energetic, independent woman, while Daisy is—a
-little innocent, confiding girl, whom I would
-rather have without brains than all the Boston women
-like Julia with brains!
-
-And yet I sometimes wish she did care for books,
-and was more interested in what interests me. I have
-tried reading aloud to her an hour every evening, but
-she generally goes to sleep or steals up behind me to
-look over my shoulder and see how near I am to the
-end of the chapter, and when I reach it she says:
-"Excuse me, but I have just thought of something I
-must tell Zillah about the dress I want to wear to-morrow.
-I'll be back in a moment;" and off she goes
-and our reading is ended for that time, for I notice
-she never returns. The dress is of more importance
-than the book, and I find her at ten or eleven trying
-to decide whether black or white or blue is most
-becoming to her. Poor Daisy! I fear she had no
-proper training at home. Indeed, she told me the
-other day that from her earliest recollection she had
-been taught that the main object of her life was to
-marry young and to marry money. Of course she did
-not mean anything, but I would rather she had not
-said it, even though I know she refused a millionaire
-for me who can hardly be called rich as riches are
-rated these days. If Dick Trevylian should fail to
-meet his payment I should be very poor, and then
-what would become of Daisy, to whom the luxuries
-which money buys are so necessary?
-
-[Here followed several other entries in the journal,
-consisting mostly of rhapsodies on Daisy, and then
-came the following:]
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-December 15th, 18—.
-
-Dick *has* failed to meet his payments, and that too
-after having borrowed of me twenty thousand more!
-Is he a villain, and did he know all the time that I
-was ruining myself? I cannot think so when I remember
-the look on his face as he told me about it
-and swore to me solemnly that up to the very last he
-fully expected relief from England, where he thought
-he had a fortune.
-
-"If I live I will pay you sometime," he said; but
-that does not help me now. I am a ruined man.
-Elmwood must be sold, and I must work like a dog to
-earn my daily bread. For myself I would not mind
-it much, and Fan, who, woman-like, saw it in the distance
-and warned me of it, behaves nobly; but it
-falls hard on Daisy.
-
-Poor Daisy! She never said a word when I told
-her the exact truth, but she went to bed and cried for
-one whole day. I am so glad I settled ten thousand
-dollars on her when we were married. No one can
-touch that, and I told her so; but she did not say a
-word or seem to know what I meant. Talking of
-anything serious, or expressing her opinion, was never
-in her line, and she has not of her own accord spoken
-with me on the subject, and when I try to talk with
-her about our future she shudders and cries, and says,
-"Please don't! I can't bear it! I want to go home to
-mother!"
-
-And so it is settled that while we are arranging
-matters she is to visit her mother and perhaps not
-return till spring, when I hope to be in a better condition
-financially than I am at present.
-
-One thing Daisy said, which hurt me cruelly, and
-that was: "If I must be a poor man's wife I might
-as well have married Cousin Tom, who wanted me so
-badly!" To do her justice, however, she added immediately:
-"But I like you the best."
-
-I am glad she said that. It will be something to
-remember when she is gone, or rather when I return
-without her, as I am going to Indianapolis with her,
-and then back to the dreary business of seeing what
-I have left and what I can do. I have an offer for
-the house, and shall sell it at once; but where my
-home will be next, I do not know, neither would I
-care so much if it were not for Daisy,—poor little
-Daisy!—who thought she had married a rich man.
-The only tears I have shed over my lost fortune were
-for her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.—EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL.
-===========================================
-
-.. class:: right
-
-Elmwood, September 20th, 18—.
-
-Daisy McDonald Thornton's journal,—presented
-by my husband, Mr. Guy
-Thornton, who wishes me to write something
-in it every day; and who, when I asked him
-what I should write, said: "Your thoughts, and
-opinions, and experiences. It will be pleasant for you
-sometime to look back upon your early married life
-and see what progress you have made since then, and
-will help you to recall incidents you would otherwise
-forget. A journal fixes things in your mind, and I
-know you will enjoy it, especially as no one is to see
-it, and you can talk to it freely as to a friend."
-
-That is what Guy said, and I wrote it right down
-to copy into the book as a kind of preface or introduction.
-I am not much pleased with having to keep
-a journal, and maybe I shall coax Zillah to keep it for
-me. I don't care to *fix* things in my mind. I don't
-like things *fixed*, anyway. I'd rather they would lie
-round loose, as they surely would, if I had not Zillah
-to pick them up. She is a treasure, and it is almost
-worth being married to have a waiting-maid,—and
-that reminds me that I may as well begin back at the
-time when I was not married, and did not want to be
-either, if we had not been so poor, and obliged to
-make so many shifts to keep up appearances and
-seem richer than we were.
-
-My maiden name was Margaret McDonald, and I
-am seventeen next New Year's Day. My father is of
-Scotch descent, and a lawyer; and mother was a Barnard,
-from New Orleans, and has some very good
-blood in her veins. I am an only child, and very
-handsome,—so everybody says; and I should know it
-if they did not say it, for can't I see myself in the
-glass? And still I really do not care so much for my
-good looks except as they serve to attain the end for
-which father says I was born.
-
-Almost the first thing I can remember is of his
-telling me that I must marry young and marry rich,
-and I promised him I would, provided I could stay
-at home with mother just the same after I was married.
-Another thing I remember, which made a lasting
-impression, and that is the beating father gave me
-for asking before some grand people staying at our
-house, "Why we did not always have beefsteak and
-hot muffins for breakfast, instead of baked potatoes
-and bread and butter?"
-
-I must learn to keep my mouth shut, he said, and
-not tell all I knew; and I profited by the lesson, and
-that is one reason, I suppose, why I so rarely say
-what I think or express an opinion either favorable
-or otherwise.
-
-I do not believe I am deceitful, though all my life
-I have seen my parents try to seem what they are
-not; that is, try to seem like rich people, when sometimes
-father's practice brought him only a few hundreds
-a year, and there was mother and myself and
-Tom to support. Tom is my cousin,—Tom McDonald—who
-lived with us and fell in love with me, though
-I never tried to make him. But I liked him ever so
-much, even if he did use to tease me horridly, and put
-horn-bugs in my shoes, and worms on my neck, and
-jack-o'lanterns in my room, and tip me off his sled
-into the snow; for with all his teasing, he had a
-great, kind, unselfish heart, and I shall never forget
-that look on his face when I told him I could not be
-his wife. I did not like him as he liked me, and I did
-not want to be married any way. I could not bear the
-thought of being tied up to some man, and if I did
-marry it must be to somebody who was rich. That
-was in Chicago, and the night before Tom started for
-South America, where he was going to make his fortune,
-and he wanted me to promise to wait for him,
-and said no one would ever love me as well as he did.
-
-I could not promise, because, even if he had all
-the gold mines in Peru, I did not care to spend my
-days with him,—to see him morning, noon and night,
-and all the time. It is a good deal to ask of a
-woman, and I told him so, and he cried so hard,—not
-loud, but in a pitiful kind of way, which hurt me
-cruelly. I hear that sobbing sometimes now in my
-sleep, and it's like the moan of the wind round that
-house on the prairie where Tom's mother died. Poor
-Tom! I gave him a lock of my hair and let him kiss
-me twice, and then he went away, and after that old
-Judge Burton offered himself and his million to me;
-but I could not endure his bald head a week, I should
-hate him awfully and I told him no; and when father
-seemed sorry and said I missed it, I told him I would
-not sell myself for gold alone,—I'd run away first and
-go after Tom, who was young and just bearable.
-Then Guy Thornton came, and—and—well, he took
-me by storm, and I liked him better than any one I
-had ever seen, though I would rather have him for my
-friend,—my beau, whom I could order around and get
-rid of when I pleased, but I married him. Everybody
-said he was rich, and father was satisfied and gave his
-consent, and bought me a most elaborate trousseau. I
-wondered then where the money came from. Now, I
-know that *Tom* sent it. He has been very successful
-with his mine, and in a letter to father sent me a
-check for fifteen hundred dollars. Father would not
-tell me that, but mother did, and I felt worse, I think,
-than when I heard the sobbing. Poor Tom! I never
-wear one of the dresses now without thinking who
-paid for it and wrote in his letter, "I am working like
-an ox for Daisy." Poor Tom!
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-October 1st, 18—.
-
-I rather like writing in my journal after all, for
-here I can say what I think, and I guess I shall not let
-Zillah make the entries. Where did I leave off? Oh,
-about poor Tom.
-
-I have had a letter from him. He had just heard
-of my marriage, and only said, "God bless you, my
-darling little Daisy, and may you be very happy."
-
-I burned the letter up and cried myself into a
-headache. I wish people would not love me so much.
-I do not deserve it, for I know I am not what they
-think me to be. There's Guy, my husband, more to
-be pitied than Tom, because, you see, he has got me;
-and privately, between you and me, old journal, I am
-not worth the getting, and I know it perhaps better
-than any one else. I do not think I am really mean
-or bad, but there certainly is in my make-up something
-different from other women. I like Guy and believe
-him to be the best man in the world, and I would
-rather he kissed me than Tom, but do not want any
-body to kiss me, especially a man, and Guy is so affectionate,
-and his great hands are so hot, and muss my
-fluted dresses so terribly.
-
-I guess I don't like to be married anyway. If one
-only could have the house, and the money, and the nice
-things without the husband! That's wicked, of course,
-when Guy is so kind and loves me so much. I wish he
-didn't, but I would not for the world let him know
-how I feel. I did tell him that I was not the wife he
-ought to have, but he would not believe me, and father
-was anxious, and so I married him, meaning to do the
-best I could. It was splendid at Saratoga, only Guy
-danced so ridiculously and would not let me waltz
-with those young men. As if I cared a straw for
-them or any body besides Guy and Tom!
-
-It is very pleasant here at Elmwood, but the house
-is not as grand as I supposed, and there are not as
-many servants, and the family carriage is awful pokey.
-Guy is to give me a pretty little phaeton on my birthday.
-
-I like Miss Frances very much, only she is such a
-raging housekeeper, and keeps me all the while on the
-alert. I don't believe in these raging housekeepers
-who act as if they wanted to make the bed before you
-are up, and eat breakfast before it is ready. I don't
-like to get up in the morning any way, and I don't
-like to hurry, and I am always behind, and keeping
-somebody waiting, and that disturbs the people here
-very much. Miss Frances seems really cross sometimes,
-and even Guy looks sober and disturbed when
-he has waited for me half an hour or more. I guess I
-must try and do better, for both Guy and Miss Frances
-are as kind as they can be, but then I am not one
-bit like them, and have never been accustomed to anything like order and regularity. At home things came
-round any time, and I came with them, and that suited
-me better than being married, only now I have a kind
-of settled feeling, and am Mrs. Guy Thornton, and
-Guy is good looking, and highly esteemed, and very
-learned, and I can see that the young ladies in the
-neighborhood envy me for being his wife. I wonder
-who is that Julia Hamilton, Miss Frances talks about
-so much, and why Guy did not marry her instead of
-me. She is very learned, and gets up in the morning
-and flies round and is always ready, and reads scientific
-articles in the *Westminster Review*, and teaches in
-Sunday-school, and thinks it wicked to waltz, and likes
-to discuss all the mixed-up horrid questions of the day,—religion
-and politics and science and everything. I
-asked Guy once why he did not marry her instead of a
-little goose like me, and he said he liked the little
-goose the best, and then kissed me, and crumpled my
-white dress all up. Poor Guy! I wish I did love him
-as well as he does me, but it's not in me to love any
-body very much.
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-December 20th, 18—.
-
-A horrible thing has happened, and I have married
-a poor man after all! Guy signed for somebody and
-had to pay, and Elmwood must be sold, and we are to
-move into a stuffy little house, without Zillah, and
-with but one girl, and I shall have to take care of my
-own room as I did at home, and make my own bed
-and pick up my things and shall never be ready for
-dinner. It is too dreadful to think about, and I was
-sick for a week after Guy told me of it. I might as
-well have married Tom, only I like Guy the best. He
-looks so sorry and sad that I sometimes forget myself
-to pity him. I am going home to mother for a long,
-long time,—all winter may be,—and I shall enjoy it so
-much. Guy says I have ten thousand dollars of my
-own, and the interest on that will buy my dresses, I
-guess, and get something for Miss Frances, too. She
-is a noble woman, and tries to bear up so bravely.
-She says they will keep the furniture of my blue room
-for me, if I want it; and I do, and I mean to have
-Guy send it to Indianapolis, if he will. Oh, mother, I
-am so glad I am coming back, where I can do exactly
-as I like,—eat my breakfast on the washstand if I
-choose, and sit up all night long. I almost wish,—no,
-I don't, either. I like Guy ever so much. It's being
-tied up that I don't like.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.—AUTHOR'S STORY.
-===========================
-
-
-Guy Thornton was not a fool, and Daisy
-was not a fool, though they have thus far
-appeared to great disadvantage. Beth had
-made a mistake; Guy in marrying a child whose mind
-was unformed; and Daisy in marrying at all, when
-her whole nature was in revolt against matrimony.
-But the mistake was made, and Guy had failed and
-Daisy was going home, and the New Year's morning
-when she was to have received Guy's gift of the
-phaeton and ponies, found her at the little cottage in
-Indianapolis, where she at once resumed all the old indolent
-habits of her girlhood, and was happier than
-she had been since leaving home as a bride.
-
-On Mr. McDonald, the news of his son-in-law's
-failure fell like a thunderbolt and affected him more
-than it did Daisy. Shrewd, ambitious and scheming,
-he had for years planned for his daughter a moneyed
-marriage, and now she was returned upon his hands
-for an indefinite time, with her naturally luxurious
-tastes intensified by recent indulgence, and her husband
-a ruined man. It was not a pleasant picture to
-contemplate, and Mr. McDonald's face was cloudy and
-thoughtful for many days, until a letter from Tom
-turned his thoughts into a new channel and sent him
-with fresh avidity to certain points of law with which
-he had of late years been familiar. If there was one
-part of his profession in which he excelled more than
-another it was in the divorce cases which had made
-Indiana so notorious. Squire McDonald, as he was
-called, was well known to that class of people who,
-utterly ignoring God's command, seek to free themselves
-from the bonds which once were so pleasant to
-wear, and as he sat alone in his office with Tom's letter
-in his hand, and read how rapidly that young man was
-getting rich, there came into his mind a plan, the very
-thought of which would have made Guy Thornton
-shudder with horror and disgust.
-
-Daisy had not been altogether satisfied with her
-brief married life, and it would be very easy to make
-her more dissatisfied, especially as the home to which
-she would return must necessarily be very different
-from Elmwood. Tom was destined to be a millionaire.
-There was no doubt of that, and he could be
-moulded and managed as Mr. McDonald had never
-been able to mould or manage Guy. But everything
-pertaining to Tom must be kept carefully out of
-sight, for the man knew his daughter would never
-lend herself to such a diabolical scheme as that which
-he was revolving, and which he at once put in progress,
-managing so adroitly that before Daisy was at
-all aware of what she was doing, she found herself the
-heroine of a divorce suit, founded really upon nothing
-but a general dissatisfaction with married life, and a
-wish to be free from it. Something there was about
-incompatibility of temperament and uncongeniality
-and all that kind of thing which wicked men and
-women parade before the world when weary of the tie
-which God has said shall not be torn asunder.
-
-It is not our intention to follow the suit through
-any of its details, and we shall only say that it progressed
-rapidly, while poor unsuspicious Guy was
-working hard to retrieve in some way his lost fortune,
-and to fit up a pleasant home for the childish wife
-who was drifting away from him. He had missed
-her so much at first, even while he felt it a relief to
-have her gone when his business matters needed all
-his time and thought. It was some comfort to write
-to her, but not much to receive her letters, for Daisy
-did not excel in epistolary composition, and after a
-few weeks her letters were short and far apart, and, as
-Guy thought, constrained and studied in their tone,
-and when, after she had been absent from him for
-three months or more his longing to see her was so
-great that he decided upon a visit of a few days to the
-West, and apprized her of his intention, asking if she
-would be glad to see him, he received in reply a telegram
-from Mr. McDonald telling him to defer his
-journey as Daisy was visiting some friends and would
-be absent for an indefinite length of time. There was
-but one more letter from her, and that was dated at
-Vincennes, and merely said that she was well, and
-Guy must not feel anxious about her or take the
-trouble to come to see her, as she knew how valuable
-his time must be, and would far rather he should
-devote himself to his business than bother about her.
-The letter was signed, "Hastily, Daisy," and Guy
-read it over many times with a pang in his heart he
-could not define.
-
-But he had no suspicion of the terrible blow in
-store for him, and went on planning for her comfort
-just the same; and when at last Elmwood was sold
-and he could no longer stay there, he hired a more
-expensive house than he could afford, because he
-thought Daisy would like it better, and then, with his
-sister Frances, set himself to the pleasant task of fitting
-it up for Daisy. There was a blue room with a
-bay window just as there had been in Elmwood, only
-it was not so pretentious and large. But it was very
-pleasant, and had a door opening out upon what Guy
-meant should be a flower garden in the summer, and
-though he missed his little wife sadly, and longed so
-much at times for a sight of her beautiful face and
-the sound of her sweet voice, he put all thought of
-himself aside and said he would not bring her back
-until the May flowers were in blossom and the young
-grass bright and green by the blue room door.
-
-"She will have a better impression of her new
-home then," he said to his sister, "and I want her to
-be happy here and not feel the change too keenly."
-
-Julia Hamilton chanced to be in town staying at
-the Towers, and as she was very intimate with Miss
-Thornton the two were a great deal together, and it
-thus came about that Julia was often at the brown
-cottage and helped to settle the blue room for Daisy.
-
-"If it were only you who was to occupy it,"
-Frances said to her one morning when they had been
-reading together for an hour or more in the room
-they both thought so pretty. "I like Daisy, but
-somehow she seems so far from me. Why, there's
-not a sentiment in common between us."
-
-Then, as if sorry for having said so much, she
-spoke of Daisy's marvelous beauty and winning ways,
-and hoped Julia would know and love her ere long,
-and possibly do her good.
-
-It so happened that Guy was sometimes present at
-these readings and enjoyed them so much that there
-insensibly crept into his heart a wish that Daisy was
-more like the Boston girl whom he had mentally
-termed strong-minded and stiff.
-
-"And in time, perhaps, she maybe," he thought.
-"I mean to have Julia here a great deal next summer,
-and with two such women for companions as Julia
-and Fan, Daisy cannot help but improve."
-
-And so at last when the house was settled and the
-early spring flowers were in bloom Guy started westward
-for his wife. He had not seen her now for
-months, and it was more than two weeks since he had
-heard from her, and his heart beat high with joyful
-anticipation as he thought just how she would look
-when she came to him, shyly and coyly, as she always
-did, with that droop in her eye-lids and that pink
-flush in her cheeks. He would chide her a little at
-first, he said, for having been so poor a correspondent,
-especially of late, and after that he would love her so
-much, and shield her so tenderly from every want or
-care that she should never feel the difference in his
-fortune.
-
-Poor Guy,—he little dreamed what was in store
-for him just inside the door where he stood ringing
-one morning in May, and which, when at last it was
-opened, shut in a very different man from the one
-who who went through it three hours later, benumbed
-and half-crazed with bewilderment and surprise.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.—THE DIVORCE.
-=======================
-
-
-He had expected to meet Daisy in the hall,
-but she was not in sight, and her mother,
-who appeared in response to the card he
-sent up, seemed confused and unnatural to such a
-degree that Guy asked in some alarm if anything had
-happened, and where Daisy was.
-
-Nothing had happened,—that is,—well, nothing
-was the matter with Daisy, Mrs. McDonald said, only
-she was nervous and not feeling quite well that morning,
-and thought she better not come down. They
-were not expecting him so soon, she continued, and
-she regretted exceedingly that her husband was not
-there, but she had sent for him, and hoped he would
-come immediately. Had Mr. Thornton been to breakfast?
-
-He had been to breakfast, and he did not understand
-at all what she meant; if Daisy could not come
-to him, he must go to her, he said, and he started for
-the door, when Mrs. McDonald sprang forward, and
-laying her hand on his arm, held him back, saying:
-
-"Wait, Mr. Thornton: wait till husband comes—to
-tell you——"
-
-"Tell me what!" Guy demanded, feeling sure now
-that something had befallen Daisy.
-
-"Tell you—that—that,—Daisy is,—that he has,—that,—oh,
-believe me, it was not my wish at all, and I
-don't know now why it was done," Mrs. McDonald
-said, still trying to detain Guy and keep him in the
-room.
-
-But her efforts were vain, for shaking off her
-grasp, Guy opened the hall door, and with a cry of
-joy caught Daisy herself in his arms.
-
-In a state of fearful excitement and very curious
-to know what was passing between her mother and
-Guy, she had stolen down stairs to listen, and had
-reached the door just as Guy opened it so suddenly.
-
-"Daisy, darling, I feared you were sick," he cried,
-nearly smothering her with his caresses.
-
-But Daisy writhed herself away from him, and
-putting up her hands to keep him off, cried out:
-
-"Oh, Guy, Guy, you can't,—you mustn't. You
-must never kiss me again or love me any more, because
-I am,—I am not,——Oh, Guy, I wish you had
-never seen me; I am so sorry, too. I did like you.
-I,—I,—Guy,—Guy,—I am not your wife any more I
-Father has got a divorce!"
-
-She whispered the last words, and then, affrighted
-at the expression of Guy's face, fled half way up the
-stairs, where she stood looking down upon him, while,
-with a face as white as ashes, he, too, stood gazing at
-her and trying to frame the words which should ask
-her what she meant. He did not believe her literally;
-the idea was too preposterous, but he felt that some
-thing horrible had come between him and Daisy,—that
-in some way she was as much lost to him as if
-he had found her coffined for the grave, and the suddenness
-of the blow took from him for a moment his
-powers of speech, and he still stood looking at her
-when the street door opened, and a new actor appeared
-upon the scene in the person of Mr. McDonald,
-who had hastened home in obedience to the message
-from his wife.
-
-It was a principle of Mr. McDonald never to lose
-his presence of mind or his temper, or the smooth, low
-tone of voice he had cultivated years ago and practiced
-with so good effect.
-
-And now, though he understood the state of matters
-at once and knew that Guy had heard the worst,
-he did not seem ruffled in the slightest degree, and
-his voice was just as kind and sweet as ever as he
-bade Guy good-morning, and advanced to take his
-hand. But Guy would not take it. He had always
-disliked and distrusted Mr. McDonald, and he felt
-intuitively that whatever harm had befallen him had
-come through the oily-tongued man who stood smilingly
-before him. With a gesture of disgust he
-turned away from the offered hand, and in a voice
-husky with suppressed excitement, asked:
-
-"What does all this mean, that when, after a
-separation of months, I come for my wife, I am told
-that she is not my wife,—that there has been a—a
-divorce?"
-
-Guy had brought himself to name the horrid thing,
-and the very sound of the word served to make it
-more real and clear to his mind, and there were great
-drops of sweat, upon his forehead and about his mouth
-as he asked what it meant.
-
-"Oh, Guy, don't feel so badly. Tell him, father,
-I did not do it," Daisy cried, as she stood leaning
-over the stair-rail looking down at the wretched man.
-
-"Daisy, go to your room. You should not have
-seen him at all," Mr. McDonald said, with more sternness
-of manner than was usual for him.
-
-Then, turning to Guy, he continued:
-
-"Come in here, Mr. Thornton, where we can be
-alone while I explain to you what seems so mysterious
-now."
-
-They went together into the little parlor, and for
-half an hour or more the sound of their voices was
-distinctly heard as Mr. McDonald tried to explain
-what there really was no explanation or excuse for.
-Daisy was not contented at Elmwood, and though she
-complained of nothing she was not happy as a married
-woman, and was glad to be free again. That
-was all, and Guy understood at last that Daisy was
-his no longer; that the law which was a disgrace to
-the State in which it existed had divorced him from
-his wife without his knowledge or consent, and for no
-other reason than incompatibility of temperament,
-and a desire on Daisy's part to be free from the marriage
-tie. Not a word had been said of Guy's
-altered fortunes, but he felt that his comparative poverty
-was really the cause of this great wrong, and for
-a few moments resentment and indignation prevailed
-over every other feeling; then, when he remembered
-the little blue-eyed, innocent-faced girl whom he had
-loved so much and thought so good and true, he laid
-his head upon the sofa-arm and groaned bitterly,
-while the man who had ruined him sat coolly by,
-citing to him many similar cases where divorces had
-been procured without the knowledge of the absent
-party. It was a common,—a very common thing, he
-said, and reflected no disgrace where there was no
-criminal charge. Daisy was too young and childish
-anyway, and ought not to have been married for
-several years, and it was really quite as much a favor
-to Guy as a wrong. He was free again,—free to marry
-if he liked,—he had taken care to see to that, so——
-
-"Stop!" Guy thundered out, rousing himself from
-his crouching attitude upon the sofa. "There is a
-point beyond which you shall not go. Be satisfied
-with taking Daisy from me, and do not insult me
-with talk of a second marriage. Had I found Daisy
-dead it would have hurt me less than this fearful
-wrong you have done. I say *you*, for I charge it all
-to *you*. Daisy could have had no part in it, and I ask
-to see her and hear from her own lips that she accepts
-the position in which you and your diabolical laws
-have placed her before I am willing to give her up.
-Call her, will you?"
-
-"No, Mr. Thornton," Mr. McDonald replied.
-"To see Daisy would be useless, and only excite you
-more than you are excited now. You cannot see
-her."
-
-"Yes he will, father. If Guy wants to see me, he
-shall."
-
-It was Daisy herself who spoke, and who a second
-time had been acting the part of listener. Going up
-to Guy she knelt down beside him, and laying her
-arms across his lap, said to him.
-
-"What is it, Guy what is it you wish to say to
-me?"
-
-The sight of her before him in all her girlish
-beauty, with that soft, sweet expression on the face
-raised so timidly to his, unmanned Guy entirely, and
-clasping her in his arms he wept passionately for a
-moment, while he tried to say:
-
-"Oh, Daisy, my darling, tell me it is a horrid
-dream,—tell me you are still my wife, and go with me
-to the home I have tried to make so pleasant for your
-sake. It is not like Elmwood, but I will sometime
-have one handsomer even than that, and I'll work so
-hard for you. Oh, Daisy, tell me you are sorry for
-the part you had in this fearful business, if indeed you
-had a part, and I'll take you back so gladly. Will
-you, Daisy; will you be my wife once more? I shall
-never ask you again. This is your last chance with
-me. Reflect before you throw it away."
-
-Guy's mood was changing a little, because of
-something he saw in Daisy's face,—a drawing back
-from him when he spoke of marriage.
-
-"Daisy must not go back with you; I shall not
-suffer that," Mr. McDonald said, while Daisy, still
-keeping her arms around Guy's neck, where she had
-put them when he drew her to him, replied:
-
-"Oh, Guy! I can't go with you; but I shall like
-you always, and I'm sorry for you. I never wanted
-to be married; but if I must, I'd better have married
-*Tom*, or that old Chicago man; they would not have
-felt so badly, and I'd rather hurt them than you."
-
-The utter childishness of the remark roused Guy,
-and, with a gesture of impatience, he put her from him,
-and rising to his feet, said angrily:
-
-"This, then, is your decision, and I accept it; but,
-Daisy, if you have in you a spark of true womanhood,
-you will some time be sorry for this day's work;
-while *you*!" and he turned fiercely upon Mr. McDonald,—"words
-cannot express the contempt I feel
-for you; and know, too, that I understand you fully,
-and am certain that were I the rich man I was when
-you gave your daughter to me, you would not have
-taken her away. But I will waste no more words upon
-you. You are a *villain*! and Daisy is"——His white
-lips quivered a little as he hesitated a moment, and
-then added: "Daisy *was* my wife."
-
-Then, without another word, he left the house, and
-never turned to see the white, frightened face which
-looked after him so wistfully until a turn in the street
-hid him from view.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.—EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES.
-==================================
-
-
-.. class:: center
-
-*Extract 1st.—Mr. McDonald's.*
-
-.. class:: right
-
-May ——.
-
-Well, that matter is over, and I can't say
-I am sorry, for the expression in that
-Thornton's eye I do not care to meet a
-second time. There was mischief in it, and it made
-one think of six-shooters and cold lead. I never quite
-indorsed the man,—first, because he was not as rich as
-I would like Daisy's husband to be; and second, because
-even had he been a millionaire it would have
-done *me* no good. That he did not marry Daisy's
-family, he made me fully understand; and for any
-good his money did me, I was as poor after the marriage
-as before. Then he must needs lose all he had
-in that foolish way; and when I found that Daisy
-was not exceedingly in love with married life, it was
-natural that, as her father, I should take advantage of
-the laws of the State in which I live, especially as *Tom*
-is growing rich so fast. On the whole, I have done a
-good thing. Daisy is free, with ten thousand dollars
-which Thornton settled on her; for, of course, I shall
-prevent her giving that back as she is determined to
-do, saying it is not hers, and she will not keep it. It
-is hers and she shall keep it, and Tom will be a millionaire
-if that gold mine proves as great a success as
-it seems likely to do; and I can manage Tom, only I
-am sorry for Thornton who evidently was in love with
-Daisy; and, as I said before, I've done a nice thing
-after all.
-
-----
-
-.. class:: center
-
-*Extract 2nd.—Miss Thornton's Diary.*
-
-.. class:: right
-
-June 30th, 18—.
-
-
-To-day, for the first time, we have hopes that my
-brother will live; but, oh! how near he has been to
-the gates of death since that night when he came back
-to us from the West, with a fearful look on his face,
-and a cruel wound in his heart. I say us, for Julia
-Hamilton has been with me all through the dreadful
-days and nights when I watched to see Guy's life go
-out and know I was left alone. She was with me when
-I was getting ready for Daisy, and waiting for Guy to
-bring her home,—not to Elmwood,—that dear old place
-is sold, and strangers walk the rooms I love so well,—but
-here to the brown cottage on the hill, which, if I
-had never had Elmwood, would seem so pleasant to
-me.
-
-And it is pleasant here, especially in Daisy's room,
-which we shall never use, for the door is shut and
-bolted, and it seems each time I pass it as if a dead
-body were lying hidden there. Had Guy died I would
-have laid him there and sent for that false creature to
-come and see her work. I promised her so much, but
-not from any love, for my heart was full of bitterness
-that night when I turned her from the door out into
-the rain. I shall never tell Guy that, lest he should
-soften toward her, and I would not have her here
-again for all the world contains. And yet I did like
-her, and was looking forward to her return with a
-good deal of pleasure. Julia had spoken many a kind
-word for her, had pleaded her extreme youth as an excuse
-for her faults, and had led me to hope for better
-things when time had matured her somewhat and she
-had become accustomed to our new mode of life.
-
-And so I waited for her and Guy, and wondered I
-did not hear from them, and felt so glad and happy
-when I received the telegram, "Shall be home to-night."
-It was a bright day in May, but the evening
-set in cool, with a feeling of rain in the air, and I had
-a fire kindled in the parlor and in Daisy's room, for I
-remembered how she used to crouch on the rug before
-the grate and watch the blaze floating up the chimney
-with all the eagerness of a child. Then, although it
-hurt me sorely, I went to Simpson, who bought our
-carriage, and asked that it might be sent to the station
-so that Daisy should not feel the difference at once.
-And Jerry, our old coachman, went with it, and waited
-there just as Julia and I waited at home, for Julia had
-promised to stay a few days on purpose to see Daisy.
-
-The train was late that night, an hour behind time,
-and the spring rain was falling outside and the gas was
-lighted within when I heard the sound of wheels stopping
-at the door and went to meet my brother. But
-only my brother. There was no Daisy with him. He
-came in alone, with such an awful look on his white
-face as made me cry out with alarm.
-
-"What is it, Guy, and where is Daisy?" I asked,
-as he staggered against the bannister, where he
-leaned heavily.
-
-He did not answer my question, but said, "Take
-me to my room," in a voice I would never have
-known for Guy's. I took him to his room and made
-him lie down, and brought him a glass of wine, and
-then, when he was strong enough to tell it, listened
-to the shameful story, and felt that henceforth and
-forever I must and would hate the woman who had
-wounded my Guy so cruelly.
-
-And still there is some good in her,—some sense of
-right and justice, as was shown by what she did when
-Guy was at the worst of the terrible fever which followed
-his coming home. I watched him constantly.
-I would not even let Julia Hamilton share my vigils,
-and one night when I was worn out with fatigue and
-anxiety I fell asleep upon the lounge, where I threw
-myself for a moment. How long I slept I never
-knew, but it must have been an hour or more, for the
-last thing I remember was hearing the whistle of the
-Western train and the distant sound of thunder as if
-a storm were coming, and when I awoke the rain was
-falling heavily and the clock was striking twelve,
-which was an hour after the train was due. It was
-very quiet in the room, and darker than usual, for
-some one had shaded the lamp from my eyes as well
-as Guy's, so that at first I did not see distinctly, but I
-had an impression that there was a figure sitting by
-Guy near the bed. Julia most likely, I thought, and
-I called her by name, feeling my blood curdle in my
-veins and my heart stand still with something like
-fear when a voice I knew so well and never expected
-to hear again, answered softly:
-
-"It is not Julia. *It's I.*"
-
-There was no faltering in her voice, no sound of
-apology. She spoke like one who had a right to be
-there, and this it was which so enraged me and made
-me lose my self-command. Starting to my feet, I
-confronted her as she sat in my chair, by Guy's bedside,
-with those queer blue eyes of hers fixed so
-questioningly upon me as if she wondered at my
-impertinence.
-
-"*Miss McDonald*," I said, laying great stress on
-the name, "why are you here, and how did you dare
-come?"
-
-"I *was* almost afraid, it was so dark when I left
-the train, and it kept thundering so," she replied, mistaking
-my meaning altogether, "but there was no
-conveyance at the station and so I came on alone. I
-never knew Guy was sick. Why did you not write
-and tell me? Is he very bad?"
-
-Her perfect composure and utter ignoring of the
-past provoked me beyond endurance, and without
-stopping to think what I was doing, I seized her arm,
-and drawing her into an adjoining room, said, in a
-suppressed whisper of rage:
-
-"Very bad,—I should think so. We have feared
-and still fear he will die, and it's all your work, the
-result of your wickedness, and yet you presume to
-come here into his very room,—you who are no wife
-of his, and no woman either, to do what you have
-done."
-
-What more I said I do not remember. I only
-know Daisy put her hands to her head in a scared,
-helpless way, and said:
-
-"I do not quite understand it all, or what you
-wish me to do."
-
-"Do?" I replied. "I want you to leave this
-house immediately,—\ *now*, before Guy can possibly be
-harmed by your presence. Go back to the depot and
-take the next train home. It is due in an hour. You
-have time to reach it."
-
-"But it is so dark, and it rains and thunders so,"
-she said, with a shudder, as a heavy peal shook the
-house and the rain beat against the windows.
-
-I think I must have been crazy with mad excitement,
-and her answer made me worse.
-
-"You were not afraid to come here," I said.
-"You can go from here as well. Thunder will not
-hurt such as you."
-
-Even then she did not move, but crouched in a
-corner of the room farthest from me, reminding me of
-my kitten when I try to drive it from a place where
-it has been permitted to play. As that will not understand
-my *'scats* and gestures so she did not seem
-to comprehend my meaning. But I made her at last,
-and with a very white face and a strange look in her
-great staring blue eyes, she said:
-
-"Fanny," (she always called me Miss Frances before).
-"Fanny, do you really mean me to go back in
-the dark, and the rain and the thunder? Then I will,
-but I must tell you first what I came for, and you will
-tell Guy. He gave me ten thousand dollars when we
-first were married; settled it on me, they called it,
-and father was one of the trustees, and kept the paper
-for me till I was of age. So much I understand, but
-not why I can't give it back to Guy, for father says I
-can't. I never dreamed it was mine after the—the—the
-divorce."
-
-She spoke the word softly and hesitatingly, while
-a faint flush showed on her otherwise white face.
-
-"If I am not Guy's wife, as they say, then I have
-no right to his money, and I told father so, and said
-I'd give it back, and he said I couldn't, and I said I
-could and would, and I wrote to Guy about it, and
-told him I was not so mean, and father kept the letter,
-and I did not know what I should do next till I was
-invited to visit Aunt Merriman in Detroit. Then I
-took the paper,—the *settlement*, you know, from the
-box where father kept it, and put it in my pocket;
-here it is; see—" and she drew out a document and
-held it toward me while she continued: "I started
-for Detroit under the care of a friend who stopped a
-few miles the other side, so you see I was free to come
-here if I liked, and I did so, for I wanted to see Guy
-and give him the paper, and tell him I'd never take a
-cent of his money. I am sorry he is sick. I did not
-think he'd care so much, and I don't know what to do
-with the paper unless I tear it up. I believe I'd better;
-then surely it will be out of the way."
-
-And before I could speak or think she tore the
-document in two, and then across again, and scattered
-the four pieces on the floor.
-
-"Tell Guy, please," she continued, "what I have
-done, and that I never meant to take it, after—after—\ *that*,—you
-know,—and that I did not care for money
-only as father taught me I must have it, and that I am
-sorry he ever saw me, and I never really wanted to be
-married and can't be his wife again till I do."
-
-She spoke as if Guy would take her back of course
-if she only signified her wish to come, and this kept
-me angry, though I was beginning to soften a little
-with this unexpected phase of her character, and I
-might have suffered her to stay till morning if she had
-signified a wish to do so, but she did not.
-
-"I suppose I must go now if I catch the train,"
-she said, moving toward the door. "Good-bye,
-Fanny. I am sorry I ever troubled you."
-
-She held her little white ungloved hand toward me
-and then I came to myself, and hearing the wind and
-rain, and remembering the lonely road to the station,
-I said to her:
-
-"Stay, Daisy, I cannot let you go alone. Miss
-Hamilton will watch with Guy while I go with
-you."
-
-"And who will come back with you? It will be
-just as dark and rainy then," she said; but she made
-no objection to my plan, and in less than five minutes
-Julia, who always slept in her dressing-gown so as to
-be ready for any emergency, was sitting by Guy, and
-I was out in the dark night with Daisy and our watch-dog
-Leo, who, at sight of his old playmate, had leaped
-upon her and nearly knocked her down in his joy.
-
-"Leo is glad to see me," Daisy said, patting the
-dumb creature's head, and in her voice there was a
-rebuking tone, which I resented silently.
-
-I was not glad to see her, and I could not act a
-part, but I wrapped my waterproof around her and
-adjusted the hood over her hair, and thought how
-beautiful she was, even in that disfiguring garb, and
-then we went on our way, the young creature clinging
-close to me as peal after peal of thunder rolled over
-our heads, and gleams of lightning lit up the inky sky.
-She did not speak to me, nor I to her, till the red light
-on the track was in sight, and we knew the train was
-coming. Then she asked timidly: "Do you think
-Guy will die?"
-
-"Heaven only knows," I said, checking a strong
-impulse to add: "If he does, you will have the satisfaction
-of knowing that you killed him."
-
-I am glad now that I did not say it. And I was
-glad then, when Daisy, alarmed perhaps by something
-in the tone of my voice, repeated her question:
-
-"But do *you* think he will die? If I thought he
-would I should wish to die too. I like him, Miss
-Frances, better than any one I ever saw; like him
-now as well as I ever did, but I do not want to be his
-wife, nor anybody's wife, and that is just the truth.
-I am sorry he ever saw me and loved me so well.
-Tell him that, Fanny."
-
-It was Fanny again, and she grasped my hand
-nervously, for the train was upon us.
-
-"Promise me solemnly that if you think he is
-surely going to die you will let me know in time to
-see him once more. Promise,—quick,—and kiss me as
-a pledge."
-
-The train had stopped. There was not a moment
-to lose, and I promised, and kissed the red lips in the
-darkness, and felt a remorseful pang when I saw the
-little figure go alone into the car which bore her
-swiftly away, while I turned my steps homeward with
-only Leo for my companion.
-
-I had to tell Julia about it, and I gathered up the
-four scraps of paper from the floor where Daisy had
-thrown them, and joining them together saw they
-really were the marriage settlement, and kept them
-for Guy, should he ever be able to hear about it and
-know what it meant. There was a telegram for me,
-the next evening, dated at Detroit, and bearing simply
-the words, "Arrived safely," and that was all I heard
-of Daisy. No one in town knew of her having been
-here but Julia and myself, and it was better that they
-should not, for Guy's life hung on a thread, and for
-many days and nights I trembled lest that promise,
-sealed by a kiss, would have to be redeemed.
-
-That was three weeks ago, and Guy is better now
-and knows us all, and to-day, for the first time, I have
-a strong hope that I am not to be left alone, and I
-thank Heaven for that hope, and feel as if I were at
-peace with all the world, even with Daisy herself,
-from whom I have heard nothing since that brief
-telegram.
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-August 1st, ——.
-
-The shadow of death has passed from our house,
-and I can almost say the shadow of sickness too, for
-though Guy is still weak as a child and thin as a
-ghost, he is decidedly on the gain, and to-day I drove
-him out for the third time, and hoped from something
-he said that he was beginning to feel some interest in
-the life so kindly given back to him. Still he will
-never be just the same. The blow stunned him too
-completely for him to recover quite his old happy
-manner, and there is a look of age in his face which
-pains me to see. He knows Daisy has been here, and
-why. I had to tell him all about it, and sooner too
-than I meant to, for almost his first coherent question
-to me after his reason came back was:
-
-"Where is Daisy? I am sure I heard her voice.
-It could not have been a dream. Is she here, or has
-she been here? Tell me the truth, Fanny."
-
-So I told him, and showed him the bits of paper,
-and held his head on my bosom, while he cried like a
-child. How he loves her still, and how glad he was
-to know that she was not as mercenary as it would at
-first seem. Not that her tearing up that paper will
-make any difference about the money. She cannot
-give it to him, he says, until she is of age, neither
-does he wish it at all, and he would not take it from
-her; but he is glad to see her disposition in the matter;
-glad to have me think better of her than I did,
-and I am certain that he is expecting to hear from her
-every day, and is disappointed that he does not. He
-did not reproach me as I thought he would when I
-told him about turning her out in the rain; he only
-said:
-
-"Poor Daisy, did she get very wet? She is so
-delicate, you know. I hope it did not make her
-sick."
-
-Oh, the love a man will feel for a woman, let her
-be ever so unworthy. I cannot comprehend it. And
-why should I? an old maid like me, who never loved
-any one but Guy.
-
-----
-
-.. class:: right
-
-August 30th, ——.
-
-In a roundabout way we have heard that Mr. McDonald
-is going away with his wife and daughter.
-When the facts of the divorce were known, they
-brought him into such disgrace with the citizens of
-Indianapolis, who were perfectly indignant, and showed
-that they were in every possible way, that he thought
-best to leave for a time till the storm was over, and so
-they will go to South America, where there is a cousin
-Tom, who is growing rich very fast. I cannot help
-certain thoughts coming into my mind, any more than
-I can help being glad that Daisy is going out of the
-country. Guy never mentions her now, and is getting
-to look and act quite like himself. If only he *could*
-forget her, we might be very happy again, as Heaven
-grant we may.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.—FIVE YEARS LATER.
-==============================
-
-
-"Married, this morning, at St. Paul's
-church, by the Rev. Dr. ——, assisted
-by the Rector, Guy Thornton, Esq., of
-Cuylerville, to Miss Julia Hamilton, of this city."
-
-Such was the notice which appeared in a daily
-Boston paper one lovely morning in September five
-years after the last entry in Miss Thornton's journal.
-Guy had reached the point at last, when he could put
-Daisy from his heart and take another in her place.
-He had never seen her, or heard directly from her
-since the night she brought him the marriage settlement
-and tore it in pieces, thinking thus to give him
-the money beyond a doubt. That this did not change
-the matter one whit he knew, for she could not give
-him the ten thousand settled upon her until she was
-of age. She *was* of age now, and had been for a
-year or more, and to say the truth he had expected to
-hear from her when she was twenty-one. To himself
-he had reasoned on this wise: "Her father told her
-that the tearing up that paper made no difference, that
-she was powerless of herself to act until she was of
-age, so she will wait quietly till then before making
-another effort." And Guy thought how he would not
-take a penny from her, but would insist upon her keeping
-it. Still he should respect her all the more for
-her sense of justice and generosity, he thought, and
-when her twenty-first birthday came and passed, and
-week after week went by, and brought no sign from
-Daisy, there was a pang in his heart and a look of disappointment
-on his face which did not pass away until
-October hung her gorgeous colors upon the hills of
-Cuylerville, and Julia Hamilton came to the Brown
-Cottage to spend a few weeks with his sister.
-
-From an independent, self-reliant, energetic girl of
-twenty-two, Julia had ripened into a noble and dignified
-woman of twenty-seven, with a repose of manner
-which seemed to rest and quiet one, and which
-told insensibly on Guy, until at last he found himself
-dreading to have her go, and wishing to keep her with
-him always. The visit was lengthened into a month;
-and when in November he went with her to Boston,
-he had asked her to take Daisy's place, and be his
-second wife. Very freely they talked of the little
-golden-haired girl, and Julia told him what she had
-heard through a mutual acquaintance who had been
-on the same vessel with the McDonalds when they
-returned from South America. Cousin Tom was with
-them, a rich man then, and a richer now, for his gold
-mine and his railroad had made him almost a millionaire,
-and it was currently reported and believed that
-Mr. McDonald meant him to marry his daughter.
-They were abroad now, the McDonalds and Tom, and
-Daisy, it was said, was even more beautiful than in
-her early girlhood, and that to her natural loveliness
-was added great cultivation and refinement of manner.
-She had had the best of teachers while in South
-America, and was now continuing her studies abroad
-with a view to further improvement. All this Julia
-Hamilton told Guy, and then bade him think again
-before deciding to join his life with hers.
-
-And Guy did think again, and his thoughts went
-across the sea after the beautiful Daisy, and he tried
-to picture to himself what she must be now that education
-and culture had set their seal upon her. But
-always in the picture there was a dark background,
-where cousin Tom stood sentinel with his bags of
-gold, and so, with a half unconscious sigh for what
-"might have been," Guy dug still deeper the grave
-where, years before, he had buried his love for Daisy,
-and to make the burial sure this time, so that there
-should be no future resurrection, he put over the grave
-a head-stone, on which was written a new hope and a
-new love, both of which centered in Julia Hamilton.
-
-And so they were engaged, and after that there was
-no wavering on his part,—no looking back to a past,
-which seemed like a happy dream, from which there
-had been a horrible awaking.
-
-He loved Julia at first quietly and sensibly, and
-loved her more and more as the winter and spring
-went by, and brought the day when he stood again at
-the altar, and for the second time took upon him the
-marriage vow. It was a very quiet wedding, with
-only a few friends present, and Miss Frances was the
-bridesmaid, in a gown of silver gray; but Julia's face
-was bright with the certainty of a happiness long
-desired; and if in Guy's heart there lingered the odor
-of other bridal flowers, withered now and dead, and
-the memory of other marriage bells than those which
-sent their music on the air that September morning,
-and if a pair of sunny blue eyes seemed looking into
-his, he made no sign, and his face wore an expression
-of perfect content as he took his second bride for
-better or worse, just as he once had taken little Daisy.
-In Daisy's case it had proved all for the worse, but
-now there was a suitableness in the union which boded
-future happiness, and many a hearty wish for good
-was sent after the newly-married pair, whose destination
-was New York.
-
-It was nearly dark when they reached the hotel,
-and quite dark before dinner was over. Then Julia
-suddenly remembered that an old friend of hers was
-boarding in the house, and suggested going to her
-room.
-
-"I'd send my card," she said, blushingly, "only
-she would not know me by the new name, so if you do
-not mind my leaving you a moment, I'll go and find
-her myself."
-
-Guy did not mind, and Julia went out and left him
-alone. Scarcely was she gone when he called to mind
-a letter which had been forwarded to him from Cuylerville,
-and which he had found awaiting him on his
-return from, the church that morning. Not thinking
-it of much consequence, he had thrust it in his pocket
-and in the excitement forgotten it till now. He had
-dressed for dinner and worn his wedding-coat, and he
-took the letter out and looked at it a moment, and
-wondered whom it was from, as people often wait
-and wonder, when breaking the seal would settle the
-matter so soon. It was post-marked in New York, and,
-felt heavy in his hand, and he opened it at last, and
-found that the outer envelope inclosed another one, on
-which his name and address were written in a handwriting
-once so familiar to him, and the sight of which
-made him start and breathe heavily for a moment as
-if the air had suddenly grown thick and burdensome.
-
-It was Daisy's handwriting, which he had never
-thought to see again; for after his engagement with
-Julia he had burned every vestige of a correspondence
-it was sorrow now to remember. One by one, and
-with a steady hand, he had dropped Daisy's letters
-into the fire and watched them turning into ashes, and
-thought how like his love for her they were when
-nothing remained of them but the thin gray tissue his
-breath could blow away. The four scraps of the marriage
-settlement which Daisy had brought him on that
-night of storm he kept, because they seemed to embody
-something good and noble in the girl; but the
-letters she had written him were gone past recall, and
-he had thought himself cut loose from her forever,—when,
-lo! there had come to him an awakening to the
-bitterness of the past in a letter from the once-loved
-wife, whose delicate handwriting made him grow faint
-and sick for a moment, as he held the letter in his
-hand and read:
-
- | ":small-caps:`Guy Thornton, Esq.`,
- | "Brown Cottage,
- | "Politeness of Mr. Wilkes. Cuylerville, Mass."
-
-Why had she written, and what had she to say to
-him? he wondered, and for a moment he felt tempted
-to tear the letter up and never know what it contained.
-
-Better, perhaps, had he done so,—better for him,
-and better for the fond new wife whose happiness was
-so perfect, and whose trust in his love was so strong.
-
-But he did not tear it up. He opened it, and
-another chapter will tell us what he read.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.—DAISY'S LETTER.
-=============================
-
-
-It was dated at Rouen, France, and it ran as
-follows:
-
-":small-caps:`Dear, Dear Guy`:—I am all alone here in Rouen, with no one
-near me who speaks English, or knows a thing of Daisy Thornton, as she
-was, or as she is now, for I am Daisy Thornton here. I have taken the
-old name again and am an English governess in a wealthy French family;
-and this is how it came about: I have left Berlin and the party there,
-and am earning my own living, for three reasons, two of which concern
-cousin Tom, and one of which has to do with you and that miserable
-settlement which has troubled me so much. I thought when I brought it
-back and tore it up that was the last of it, and felt so happy and
-relieved. Father missed it, of course; and I told him the truth and that
-I could never touch a penny of your money if I was not your wife. He did
-not say a word, and I supposed it was all right, and never dreamed that
-I was actually clothed and fed on the interest of that ten thousand
-dollars. Father would not tell me, and you did not write. Why didn't
-you, Guy? I expected a letter so long and went to the office so many
-times and cried a little to myself, and said Guy has forgotten me.
-
-"After the divorce, which I know now was a most unjust and mean affair,
-the people in Indianapolis treated us with so much coldness and neglect
-that at last we went to South America,—father, mother and I,—went to
-live with Tom. He wanted me for his wife before you did, but I could not
-marry Tom. He is very rich now, and we lived with him, and then we all
-came to Europe and have traveled everywhere, and I have had teachers in
-everything, and people say I am a fine scholar, and praise me much; and,
-Guy, I have tried to improve just to please *you*; believe me, Guy, just
-to please *you*. Tom was as a brother,—a dear, good big bear of a
-brother, whom I loved as such, but nothing more. Even were you dead, I
-could not marry Tom after knowing you; and I told him so when in Berlin
-he asked me for the sixth time to be his wife. I had to tell him
-something hard to make him understand, and when I saw how what I said
-hurt him cruelly and made him cry because he was such a great big,
-awkward, dear old fellow, I put my arms around his neck and cried with
-him, and tried to explain, and that made him ten times worse. Oh, if
-people only would not love me so much it would save me a great deal of
-sorrow.
-
-"You see, I tell you this because I want you to know exactly what I have
-been doing these five years, and that I have never thought of marrying
-Tom or anybody. I did not think I could. I felt that if I belonged to
-anybody it was you, and I cannot have Tom, and father was very angry and
-taunted me with living on Tom's money, which I did not know before, and
-then he accidently let out about the marriage settlement, and that hurt
-me worse than the other.
-
-"Oh, Guy, how can I give it up? Surely there must be a way now I am of
-age. I was so humiliated about it, and after all that passed between
-father and Tom and me, I could not stay in Berlin, and never be sure
-whose money was paying for my bread, and when I heard that Madame
-Lafarcade, a French lady, who had spent the winter in Berlin, was
-wanting an English governess for her children, I went to her, and as the
-result, am here at her beautiful country-seat, just out of the city,
-earning my own living and feeling so proud to do it; only, Guy, there is
-an ache in my heart, a heavy, throbbing pain which will not leave me day
-or night, and this is how it came there.
-
-"Mother wrote that you were about to marry Miss Hamilton. Letters from
-home brought her the news, which she thinks is true. Oh, Guy, it is not,
-it cannot be true. You must not go quite away from me now, just as I am
-coming back to you. For, Guy, I am—or rather, I have come, and a great
-love, such as I never felt before, fills me full almost to bursting. I
-always liked you, Guy; but when we were married I did not know what it
-was to love,—to feel my pulses quicken as they do now just at thought of
-you. If I had, how happy I could have made you, but I was a silly little
-girl, and married life was distasteful to me, and I was willing to be
-free, though always, way down in my heart, was something which protested
-against it, and if you knew just how I was influenced and led on
-insensibly to assent, you would not blame me so much. The word *divorce*
-had an ugly sound to me, and I did not like it, and I have always felt
-as if bound to you just the same. It would not be right for me to marry
-Tom, even if I wanted to, which I do not. I am yours, Guy,—only yours,
-and all these years I have studied and improved for your sake, without
-any fixed idea, perhaps, as to what I expected or hoped. But when Tom
-spoke the last time it came to me suddenly what I was keeping myself
-for, and, just as a great body of water, when freed from its prison
-walls rolls rapidly down a green meadow, so did a mighty love for you
-take possession of me and permeate my whole being, until every nerve
-quivered with joy, and when Tom was gone I went away alone and cried
-more for my new happiness, I am afraid, than for him, poor fellow. And
-yet I pitied him, too, and as I could not stay in Berlin after that I
-came away to earn money enough to take me back to you. For I am coming,
-or I was before I heard that dreadful news which I cannot believe.
-
-"Is it true, Guy? Write and tell me it is not, and that you love me
-still and want me back, or, if it in part is true, and you are engaged
-to Julia, show her this letter and ask her to give you up, even if it is
-the very day before the wedding,—for you are mine, and, sometimes, when
-the children are troublesome, and I am so tired and sorry and homesick,
-I have such a longing for a sight of your dear face, and think if I
-could only lay my aching head in your lap once more I should never know
-pain or weariness again.
-
-"Try me, Guy. I will be so good and loving, and make you so happy, and
-your sister, too,—I was a bother to her once. I'll be a comfort now.
-Tell her so, please; tell her to bid me come. Say the word yourself, and
-almost before you know it I'll be there.
-
-"Truly, lovingly, waitingly, your wife,
-
-.. class:: right
-
- ":small-caps:`Daisy`."
-
-"P. S.—To make sure of this letter's safety I shall send it to New York
-by a friend, who will mail it to you.
-
-.. class:: right
-
- "Again, lovingly, :small-caps:`Daisy Thornton`."
-
-----
-
-This was Daisy's letter, which Guy read with such
-a pang in his heart as he had never known before,
-even when he was smarting the worst from wounded
-love and disappointed hopes. Then he had said to
-himself, "I can never suffer again as I am suffering
-now," and now, alas, he felt how little he had ever
-known of that pain which tears the heart and takes
-the breath away.
-
-"God help her," he moaned,—his first thought, his
-first prayer for Daisy, the girl who called herself his
-wife, when just across the hall was the bride of a few
-hours,—another woman who bore his name and called
-him her husband.
-
-With a face as pale as ashes, and hands which
-shook like palsied hands, he read again that pathetic
-cry from her whom he now felt he had never ceased
-to love; ay, whom he loved still, and whom, if he
-could, he would have taken to his arms so gladly, and
-loved and cherished as the priceless thing he had once
-thought her to be. The first moments of agony
-which followed the reading of the letter were Daisy's
-wholly, and in bitterness of soul the man she had cast
-off and thought to take again cried out, as he
-stretched his arms toward an invisible form: "Too
-late, darling; too late. But had it come two months,
-one month, or even one week ago, I would,—I would,
-—have gone to you over land and sea, but now,—another
-is in your place, another is my wife; Julia,—poor,
-innocent Julia. God help me to keep my vow;
-God help me in my need."
-
-He was praying now; and Julia was the burden of
-his prayer. And as he prayed there came into his
-heart an unutterable tenderness and pity for her. He
-had thought he loved her an hour ago; he believed he
-loved her now, or if he did not, he would be to her
-the kindest, most thoughtful of husbands, and never
-let her know, by word or sign, of the terrible pain he
-should always carry in his heart. "Darling Daisy,
-poor Julia," he called the two women who were both
-so much to him. To the first his love, to the other
-his tender care, for she was worthy of it. She was
-noble, and good, and womanly; he said many times
-and tried to stop the rapid heart-throbs and quiet
-himself down to meet her when she came back to him
-with her frank, open face and smile, in which there
-was no shadow of guile. She was coming now; he
-heard her voice in the hall speaking to her friend, and
-thrusting the fatal letter in his pocket he rose to his
-feet, and steadying himself upon the table, stood
-waiting for her, as, flushed and eager, she came in.
-
-"Guy, Guy, what is it? Are you sick?" she
-asked, alarmed at the pallor of his face and the
-strange expression of his eyes.
-
-He was glad she had thus construed his agitation,
-and he answered that he was faint and a little sick.
-
-"It came on suddenly, while I was sitting here.
-It will pass off as suddenly," he said, trying to smile,
-and holding out his hand, which she took at once in
-hers.
-
-"Is it your heart, Guy? Do you think it is your
-heart?" she continued, as she rubbed and caressed his
-cold, clammy hand.
-
-A shadow of pain or remorse flitted across Guy's
-face as he replied:
-
-"I think it is my heart, but I assure you there is no
-danger,—the worst is over. I am a great deal better."
-
-And he was better with that fair girl beside him,
-her face glowing with excitement, and her soft hands
-pressing his. Perfectly healthy herself, she must
-have imparted some life and vigor to him, for he felt
-his pulse grow steadier beneath her touch, and the
-blood flow more regularly through his veins. If only
-he could forget that crumpled letter which lay in his
-vest pocket, and seemed to burn into his flesh; forget
-that, and the young girl watching for an answer and
-the one word "come," he might be happy yet, for
-Julia was one whom any man could love and be proud
-to call his wife. And Guy said to himself that he did
-love her, though not as he once loved Daisy, or as he
-could love her again were he free to do so, and because
-of that full love withheld, he made a mental
-vow that his whole life should be given to Julia's
-happiness, so that she might never know any care or
-sorrow from which he could shield her.
-
-"And Daisy?" something whispered in his ear.
-
-"I must and will forget her," he sternly answered,
-and the arm he had thrown around Julia, who was
-sitting with him upon the sofa, tightened its grasp
-until she winced and moved a little from him.
-
-He was very talkative that evening, and asked his
-wife many questions about her friends and the shopping
-she wished to do, and the places they were to
-visit; and Julia, who had hitherto regarded him as a
-quiet, silent man, given to few words, wondered at
-the change, and watched the bright red spots on his
-cheeks, and thought how she would manage to have
-medical advice for that dreadful heart-disease, which
-had come like a nightmare to haunt her bridal
-days.
-
-Next morning there came a Boston paper containing
-a notice of the marriage, and this Guy sent to
-Daisy, with only the faint tracing of a pencil to indicate
-the paragraph.
-
-"Better so than to write," he thought; though he
-longed to add the words, "Forgive me, Daisy; your
-letter came too late."
-
-And so the paper was sent, and, after a week or
-two, Guy went back to his home in Cuylerville, and
-the blue rooms which Julia had fitted up for Daisy
-five years before became her own by right. And
-Fanny Thornton welcomed her warmly to the house,
-and by many little acts of thoughtfulness showed how
-glad she was to have her there. And Julia was very
-happy save when she remembered the heart-disease
-which she was sure Guy had, and for which he would
-not take advice. "There was nothing the matter with
-his heart, unless it were too full of love," he told her
-laughingly, and wondered to himself if in saying this
-he was guilty of a lie, inasmuch as his words misled
-her so completely.
-
-After a time, however, there came a change, and
-thoughts of Daisy ceased to disturb him as they once
-had done. No one ever mentioned her to him, and
-since the receipt of her letter he had heard no tidings
-of her until six months after his marriage, when there
-came to him the ten thousand dollars, with all the
-interest which had accrued since the settlement first
-was made. There was no word from Daisy herself,
-but a letter from a lawyer in Berlin, who said all there
-was to say with regard to the business, but did not tell
-where Miss McDonald, as he called her, was.
-
-Then Guy wrote Daisy a letter of thanks, to which
-there came no reply, and as time went on the old
-wound began to heal, the grave to close again; and
-when, at last, one year after his marriage, they
-brought him a beautiful little baby girl and laid it in
-his arms, and then a few moments later let him into
-the room where the pale mother lay, he stooped over
-her, and kissing her fondly, said;
-
-"I never loved you half as well as I do now!"
-
-It was a pretty child, with dark blue eyes, and hair
-in which there was a gleam of gold, and Guy, when
-asked by his wife what he would call her, said;
-
-"Would you object to Margaret?"
-
-Julia knew what he meant, and like the true, noble
-woman she was, offered no objection to Guy's choice,
-and herself first gave the pet name of Daisy to her
-child, on whom Guy settled the ten thousand dollars
-sent to him by the Daisy over the sea.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.—DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE.
-===========================================
-
-
-Watching, waiting, hoping, saying to herself
-in the morning, "It will come before
-night," and saying to herself at night, "It
-will be here to-morrow morning." Such was Daisy's
-life, even before she had a right to expect an answer
-to her letter.
-
-Of the nature of Guy's reply she had no doubt.
-He had loved her once, he loved her still, and he
-would take her back of course. There was no truth in
-that rumor of another marriage. Possibly her father,
-whom she understood now better than she once did,
-had gotten the story up for the sake of inducing her
-through pique to marry Tom; but if so, his plan
-would fail. Guy would write to her, "Come!" and
-she should go, and more than once she counted the
-contents of her purse and added to it the sum due
-her from Madame Lafarcade, and wondered if she
-would dare venture on the journey with so small a
-sum.
-
-"You so happy and white, too, this morning," her
-little pupil, Pauline, said to her one day, when they
-sat together in the garden, and Daisy was indulging
-in a fanciful picture of her meeting with Guy.
-
-"Yes, I am happy," Daisy said, rousing from her
-revery; "but I did not know I was pale, or white, as
-you term it, though, now I think of it, I do feel sick
-and faint. It's the heat, I suppose. Oh! there is
-Max, with the mail! He is coming this way! He
-has,—he certainly has something for me!"
-
-Daisy's cheeks were scarlet now, and her eyes were
-bright as stars as she went forward to meet the man
-who brought the letters to the house.
-
-"Only a paper!—is there nothing more?" she
-asked, in an unsteady voice, as she took the paper in
-her hand, and recognizing Guy's handwriting, knew
-almost to a certainty what was before her.
-
-"Oh, you are sick, I must bring some water,"
-Pauline exclaimed, alarmed at Daisy's white face and
-the peculiar tone of her voice.
-
-"No, Pauline, stay; open the paper for me,"
-Daisy said, feeling that it would be easier so than to
-read it herself, for she knew what was there, else he
-would never have sent her a paper and nothing more.
-
-Delighted to be of some use, and a little gratified
-to open a foreign paper, Pauline tore off the wrapper,
-starting a little at Daisy's quick, sharp cry as she
-made a rent across the handwriting.
-
-"Look, you are tearing into my name, which he
-wrote," Daisy said, and then remembering herself she
-sank back into her seat in the garden chair, while
-Pauline wondered what harm there was in tearing an
-old soiled wrapper, and why her governess should take
-it so carefully in her hand and roll it up as if it had
-been a living thing.
-
-There were notices of new books, and a runaway
-match in high life, and a suicide on Sumner street, and
-a golden wedding in Roxbury, and the latest fashions
-from Paris, into which Pauline plunged with avidity,
-while Daisy listened like one in a dream, asking, when
-the fashions were exhausted, "Is that all? Are there
-no deaths or marriages?"
-
-Pauline had not thought of that,—she would see;
-and she hunted through the columns till she found
-Guy's pencil mark, and read:
-
-"Married, this morning, in——church, by the
-Rev. Dr.——, assisted by the rector, Guy Thornton, Esq.,
-of Cuylerville, to Miss Julia Hamilton, of
-this city."
-
-"Yes, yes, I see,—I know, it's very hot here, isn't
-it? I think I will go in," Daisy said, her fingers
-working nervously with the bit of paper she held.
-
-But Pauline was too intent on the name Thornton
-to hear what Daisy said, and she asked: "Is Mr.
-Thornton your friend or your relative?"
-
-It was natural enough question, and Daisy roused
-herself to answer it, and said, quickly: "He is the
-son of my husband's father."
-
-"Oh, *oui*," Pauline rejoined, a little mystified as to
-the exact relationship existing between Guy Thornton
-and her teacher's husband, who she supposed was
-dead, as Daisy had only confided to madame the fact
-of a divorce.
-
-"What date is the paper?" Daisy asked, and on
-being told she said softly to herself: "I see; it was
-too late."
-
-There was in her mind no doubt as to what the result
-would have been had her letter been in time; no
-doubt of Guy's preference for herself, no regret that
-she had written to him, except that the knowledge
-that she loved him at last would make him wretched
-with thinking "what might have been," and with the
-bitter pain which cut her heart like a knife there was
-mingled a pity for Guy, who would perhaps suffer
-more than she did, if that were possible. She never
-once thought of retribution, or of murmuring against
-her fate, but accepted it meekly, albeit she staggered
-under the load and grew faint as she thought of the
-lonely life before her, and she so young.
-
-Slowly she went back to her room, while Pauline
-walked up and down the garden, trying to make out
-the relationship between the newly-married Thornton
-and her teacher.
-
-"The son of her husband's father?" she repeated,
-until at last a meaning dawned upon her, and she
-said: "Then he must be her brother-in-law; but
-why didn't she say so? Maybe, though, that is the
-English way of putting it;" and having thus settled
-the matter Pauline joined her mother, who was asking
-for Mrs. Thornton.
-
-"Gone to her room, and her brother-in-law is married.
-It was marked in a paper, and I read it to her,
-and she's sick," Pauline said, without, however, in the
-least connecting the sickness with the marriage.
-
-Daisy did not come down to dinner that night,
-and the maid who called her the next morning reported
-her as ill and acting very strangely. Through
-the summer a malarious fever had prevailed to some
-extent in and about Rouen, and the physician whom
-Madame Lafarcade summoned to the sick girl expressed
-a fear that she was coming down with it, and
-ordered her kept as quiet as possible.
-
-"She seems to have something weighing on her
-mind. Has she heard any bad news from home?" he
-asked, as in reply to his question where her pain was
-the worst, Daisy always answered:
-
-"It reached him too late—too late, and I am so
-sorry."
-
-Madame knew of no bad news, she said, and then
-as she saw the foreign paper lying on the table, she
-took it up, and, guided by the pencil marks, read the
-notice of Guy Thornton's marriage, and that gave her
-the key at once to Daisy's mental agitation. Daisy
-had been frank with her and told as much of her story
-as was necessary, and she knew that the Guy Thornton
-married to Julia Hamilton had once called Daisy
-his wife.
-
-"Excuse me, she is, or she has something on her
-mind, I suspect," she said to the physician, who was
-still holding Daisy's hand and looking anxiously at
-her flushed cheeks and bright, restless eyes.
-
-"I thought so," he rejoined, "and it aggravates all
-the symptoms of her fever. I shall call again to-night."
-
-He did call, and found his patient worse, and the
-next day he asked of Madame Lafarcade:
-
-"Has she friends in this country? If so, they
-ought to know."
-
-A few hours later and in his lodgings at Berlin,
-Tom read the following dispatch:
-
-"Mrs. Thornton is dangerously ill. Come at
-once."
-
-It was directed to Mr. McDonald, who with his
-wife had been on a trip to Russia, and was expected
-daily. Feeling intuitively that it concerned Daisy,
-Tom had opened it, and without a moment's hesitation
-packed his valise and leaving a note for the McDonalds
-when they should return, started for Rouen.
-Daisy did not know him, and in her delirium she said
-things to him and of him which hurt him cruelly.
-Guy was her theme, and the letter which went "too
-late, too late." Then she would beg of Tom to go
-for Guy, to bring him to her, and tell him how much
-she loved him and how good she would be if he would
-only take her back.
-
-"Father wants me to marry Tom," she said in a
-whisper, and Tom's heart almost stood still as he
-listened; "and Tom wanted me, too, but I couldn't,
-you know, even if he were worth his weight in gold.
-I could not love him. Why, he's got red hair, and
-such great freckles on his face, and big feet and hands
-with frecks on them. Do you know Tom?"
-
-"Yes, I know him," Tom answered, sadly, forcing
-down a choking sob, while the "big hand with the
-great frecks on it," smoothed the golden hair tenderly,
-and pushed it back from the burning brow.
-
-"Don't talk any more, Daisy; it tires you so," he
-said, as he saw her about to speak again.
-
-But Daisy was not to be stopped, and she went on:
-
-"Tom is good, though; so good, but awkward,
-and I like him ever so much, but I can't be his wife.
-I cannot. I cannot."
-
-"He doesn't expect it now, or want it," came
-huskily from Tom, while Daisy quickly asked:
-
-"Doesn't he?"
-
-"No, never any more; so, put it from your mind
-and try to sleep," Tom said, and again the freckled
-hands smoothed the tumbled pillows and wiped the
-sweat drops from Daisy's face, while all the time the
-great kind heart was breaking, and the hot tears were
-rolling down the sunburnt face Daisy thought so ugly.
-
-Tom had heard from Madame Lafarcade of Guy's
-marriage and, like her, understood why Daisy's fever
-ran so high, and her mind was in such turmoil. But
-for himself he knew there was no hope, and with a
-feeling of death in his heart he watched by her day
-and night, yielding his place to no one, and saying to
-madame, when she remonstrated with him and bade
-him care for his own health:
-
-"It does not matter for me. I would rather die
-than not."
-
-Daisy was better when her mother came,—saved,
-the doctor said, more by Tom's care and nursing than
-by his own skill, and then Tom gave up his post, and
-never went near her unless she asked for him. His
-"red hair and freckled face" were constantly in his
-mind, making him loathe the very sight of himself.
-
-"She cannot bear my looks, and I will not force
-myself upon her," he thought; and so he staid away,
-but surrounded her with every luxury money could
-buy, and as soon as she was able had her removed
-to a pretty little cottage which he rented and fitted up
-for her, and where she would be more at home and
-quieter than at Madame Lafarcade's.
-
-And there one morning when he called to inquire
-for her, he, too, was smitten down with the fever
-which he had taken with Daisy's breath the many
-nights and days he watched by her without rest or
-sufficient food. There was a faint, followed by a long
-interval of unconsciousness, and when he came to himself
-he was in Daisy's own room lying on Daisy's little
-bed, and Daisy herself was bending anxiously over
-him, with a flush on her white cheeks and a soft, pitiful
-look in her blue eyes.
-
-"What is it? Where am I?" he asked, and Daisy
-replied:
-
-"You are here in my room; and you've got the
-fever, and I'm going to take care of you, and I'm so
-glad. Not glad you have the fever," she added, as she
-met his look of wonder, "but glad I can repay in part
-all you did for me, you dear, noble Tom! And you
-are not to talk," and she laid her hand on his mouth as
-she saw him about to speak. "I am strong enough;
-the doctor says so, and I'd do it if he didn't, for you
-are the best, the truest friend I have."
-
-She was rubbing his hot, feverish hands, and
-though the touch of her cool, soft fingers was so
-delicious, poor Tom thought of the big frecks so
-obnoxious to the little lady, and drawing his hands
-from her grasp hid them beneath the clothes. Gladly,
-too, would he have covered his face and hair from her
-sight, but this he could not do and breathe, so he
-begged her to leave him, and send some one in her
-place. But Daisy would not listen to him.
-
-He had nursed her day and night, she said, and she
-should stay with him, and she did stay through the
-three weeks when Tom's fever ran higher than hers
-had done, and when Tom in his ravings talked of
-things which made her heart ache with a new and
-different pain from that already there.
-
-At first there were low whisperings and incoherent
-mutterings, and when Daisy asked him to whom he
-was talking he answered:
-
-"To that other one over in the corner. Don't you
-see him? He is waiting for me till the fever eats me
-up. There's a lot of me to eat, I'm so big and awkward,
-overgrown,—that's what Daisy said. You know
-Daisy, don't you? a dainty little creature, with such
-delicacy of sight and touch. She doesn't like red
-hair; she said so, when we thought the man in the
-corner was waiting for her; and she doesn't like my
-freckled face and hands,—big hands, she said they
-were, and yet how they have worked like horses for
-her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy, I have loved her ever since
-she was a child, and I drew her to school on my sled
-and cut her doll's head off to tease her. Take me
-quick, please, out of her sight, where my freckled face
-won't offend her."
-
-He was talking now to that other one, the man in
-the corner, who like some grim sentinel stood there
-day and night, while Daisy kept her tireless watch
-and Tom talked on and on,—never to her,—but always
-to the other one, the man in the corner, whom he
-begged to take him away.
-
-"Bring out your boat," he would say. "It's time
-we were off, for the tide is at its height, and the river
-is running so fast. I thought once it would take
-Daisy, but it left her and I am glad. When I am
-fairly over and there's nothing but my big freckled
-hulk left, cover my face, and don't let her look at me,
-though I'll be white then, not red. Oh, Daisy, Daisy,
-my darling, you hurt me so cruelly."
-
-Those were terrible days for Daisy, but she never
-left her post, and stood resolutely between the sick
-man and *that other one* in the corner, until the latter
-seemed to waver a little; his shadow was not so black,
-his presence so all-pervading, and there was hope for
-Tom, the doctor said. His reason came back at last,
-and the fever left him, weak as a little child, with no
-power to move even his poor wasted hands, which lay
-outside the counterpane and seemed to trouble him,
-for there was a wistful, pleading look in his gray eyes
-as they went from the hands to Daisy, and his lips
-whispered faintly: "Cover."
-
-She understood him, and with a rain of tears
-spread the sheet over them, and then on her knees
-beside him, said to him, amid her sobs:
-
-"Forgive me, Tom, for what I said when I was
-crazy. You are not repulsive to me. You are the
-truest, best, and dearest friend I ever had, and I—I—Oh,
-Tom, live for my sake, and let me prove how—Oh,
-Tom, I wish I had never been born."
-
-Daisy did not stay with Tom that night. There
-was no necessity for it, and she was so worn and
-weary with watching that the physician declared she
-must have absolute rest or be sick again. So she
-staid away, and in a little room by herself fought the
-fiercest battle she had ever fought, and on her knees,
-with tears and bitter cries, asked for help to do right.
-Not for help to know what was right. She felt sure
-that she did know that, only the flesh was weak, and
-there were chords of love still clinging to a past she
-scarcely dared think of now, lest her courage should
-fail her. Guy was lost to her forever; it was a sin
-even to think of him as she must think if she thought
-at all, and so she strove to put him from her,—to tear
-his image from her heart, and put another in its place,—Tom,
-whom she pitied so much, and whom she could
-make so happy.
-
-"No matter for myself," she said at last. "No
-matter what I feel, or how sharp the pain in my heart,
-if I only keep it there and never let Tom know. I
-can make him happy, and I will."
-
-There was no wavering after that decision,—no
-regret for the "might have been,"—but her face was
-white as snow, and about the pretty mouth there was
-a quivering of the muscles, as if the words were hard
-to utter, when next day she went to Tom, and sitting
-down beside him, asked how he was feeling. His
-eyes brightened a little when he saw her, but there
-was a look on his face which made Daisy's pulse
-quicken with a nameless fear, and his voice was very
-weak, as he replied:
-
-"They say I am better; but, Daisy, I know the
-time is near for me to go. I shall never get well, and
-I do not wish to, though life is not a gift to be thrown
-away easily, and on some accounts mine has been a
-happy one, but the life beyond is better, and I feel
-sure I am going to it."
-
-"Oh, Tom, Tom, don't talk so. You must not
-leave me now," Daisy cried, all her composure giving
-way as she fell on her knees beside him, and taking
-both his hands in hers wet them with her tears.
-"Tom," she began, when she could speak, "I have
-been bad to you so often, and worried and wounded
-you so much; but I am sorry, so sorry,—and I've
-thought it all over real earnestly and seriously, and
-made up my mind, and I want you to get well and
-ask me that,—that—question again,—you have asked
-so many times,—and—and—Tom,—I will say—yes—to
-it now, and try so hard to make you happy."
-
-Her face was crimson as if with shame, and she
-dared not look at Tom until his silence startled her.
-Then she stole a glance at him, and met an expression
-which prompted her to go on recklessly:
-
-"Don't look so incredulous, Tom. I am in earnest.
-I mean what I say, though it may be unmaidenly
-to say it. Try me, Tom. I will make you happy,
-and though at first I cannot love you as I did Guy
-when I sent him that letter, the love will come, born
-of your great goodness and kindness of heart. Try
-me, Tom, won't you?"
-
-She kissed his thin white hands where the freckles
-showed more plainly than ever, and which Tom tried to
-free from her; she held them fast and looked steadily
-into the face, which shone for a moment with a joy so
-great that it was almost handsome, and when she said
-again: "Will you, Tom?" the pale lips parted with
-an effort to speak, but no sound was audible, only the
-chin quivered and the tears stood in Tom's eyes as he
-battled with the temptation. Should he accept the
-sacrifice? It would be worth trying to live for, if
-Daisy could be his wife, but ought he to join her life
-with his? Could she ever learn to love him? No,
-she could not, and he must put her from him, even
-though she came asking him to take her. Thus Tom
-decided, and turning his face to the wall, he said with
-a choking sob:
-
-"No, Daisy. It cannot be. Such happiness is not
-for me now. I must not think of it, for I am going
-to die. Thank you, darling, just the same. It was
-kind in you and well meant, but it cannot be. I
-could not make you happy. I am not like Guy;
-never could be like him, and you would hate me after
-a while, and the chain would hurt you cruelly.
-No, Daisy, I love you too well,—and yet, Daisy,—Daisy,—why
-do you tempt me so,—if it could be, I
-might perhaps get well, I should try so hard."
-
-He turned suddenly toward her, and winding both
-his arms around her, drew her to him in a quick,
-passionate embrace, crying piteously over her, and
-saying:
-
-"My darling, my darling, if it could have been,
-but it's too late now,—God is good and will take me
-to Himself. I thought a great deal before I was sick,
-and believe I am a better man, and that Jesus is my
-friend, and I am going to him. I'm glad you told me
-what you have. It will make my last days happier,
-and when I am gone, you will find that I did well
-with you."
-
-He put her from him then, for faintness and exhaustion
-were stealing over him, and that was the last
-that ever passed between him and Daisy on the subject
-which all his life had occupied so much of his
-thoughts. The fever had left him, it is true, but he
-seemed to have no vital force or rallying power, and,
-after a few days, it was clear even to Daisy that
-Tom's life was drawing to a close. "The man in the
-corner," who had troubled him so much, was there
-again, and Tom was very happy. He had thought
-much of death and what lay beyond during those
-days when Daisy's life hung in the balance, and the
-result of the much thinking had been a full surrender
-of himself to God, who did not forsake him when the
-dark, cold river was closing over him.
-
-Calm and peaceful as the setting of the summer
-sun was the close of his life, and up to the last he
-retained his consciousness, with the exception of a few
-hours, when his mind wandered a little, and he talked
-to "that other one," whom no one could see, but
-whose presence all felt so vividly.
-
-"It would have been pleasant, and for a minute I
-was tempted to take her at her word," he said; "but
-when I remembered my hair, and face, and hands, and
-how she liked nothing which was not comely, I would
-not run the chance of being hated for my repulsive
-looks. Poor little Daisy! she meant it all right, and
-I bless her for it, and am glad she said it, but she
-must not look at me when I'm dead. The frecks she
-dislikes so much will show plainer then. Don't let
-her come near, or, if she must, cover me up,—cover
-me up,—cover me from her sight."
-
-Thus he talked, and Daisy, who knew what he
-meant, wept silently by his side, and kept the sheet
-closely drawn over the hands he was so anxious to
-conceal. He knew her at the last, and bade her farewell,
-and told her she had been to him the dearest
-thing in life; and Daisy's arm was round him, supporting
-him upon the pillow, and Daisy's hand wiped
-the death moisture from his brow, and Daisy's lips
-were pressed to his dying face, and her ear caught his
-faint whisper:
-
-"God bless you, darling! I am going home!
-Good-bye."
-
-"The man in the corner,—that other one,"—had
-claimed him, and Daisy put gently from her the lifeless
-form which had once been Tom.
-
-They buried him there in France, on a sunny slope,
-where the grass was green and the flowers blossomed
-in the early spring; and, when Mr. McDonald examined
-his papers, he found to his surprise that, with
-the exception of an annuity to himself, and several
-legacies to different charitable institutions, Tom had
-left to Daisy his entire fortune, stipulating only that
-one-tenth of all her income should be yearly given
-back to God, who had a right to it.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.—MISS MCDONALD.
-=========================
-
-
-She took the name again, and with it, also,
-Margaret, feeling that Daisy was far too
-girlish an appellation for one who clad
-herself in the deepest mourning, and felt, when she
-stood at poor Tom's grave, more wretched and desolate
-than many a wife has felt when her husband was
-buried from sight.
-
-Tom had meant to make her parents independent
-of her so that she need not have them with her unless
-she chose to do so, for knowing Mr. McDonald as he
-did, he thought she would be happier without him;
-but God so ordered it that within three months after
-poor Tom's death, they made another grave beside
-his, and Daisy and her mother were alone.
-
-It was spring time, and the two desolate women
-bade adieu to their dead, and made their way to
-England, and from there to Scotland, where among
-the heather hills they passed the summer in the utmost
-seclusion.
-
-Here Daisy had ample time for thought, which
-dwelt mostly upon the past and the happiness she cast
-away when she consented to the sundering of the tie
-which had bound her to Guy Thornton.
-
-"Oh, how could I have been so foolish and so
-weak," she said, as with intense contempt for herself,
-she read over the journal she had kept at Elmwood
-during the first weeks of her married life.
-
-Guy had said it would be pleasant for her to refer
-to its pages in after years, little dreaming with what
-sore anguish of heart poor Daisy would one day weep
-over the senseless things recorded there.
-
-"Can it be I was ever that silly little fool?" she
-said bitterly, as she finished her journal. "And how
-could Guy love me as he did. Oh, if I but had the
-chance again, I would make him so happy. Oh, Guy,
-Guy,—my husband still,—mine more than Julia's, if
-you could know how much I love you now; nor can
-I feel it wrong to do so, even though I never hope to
-see your face again, Guy, Guy, the world is so desolate,
-and I am young, only twenty-three, and life is so
-long and dreary with nothing to live for or to do. I
-wish almost that I were dead like Tom, only I dare
-not think I should go to the Heaven where he has
-gone."
-
-In her sorrow and loneliness, Daisy was fast sinking
-into an unhealthy morbid state of mind from
-which nothing seemed to rouse her.
-
-"Nothing to live for,—nothing to do," was her
-lament, until one golden September day, when there
-came a turning point in her life, and she found there
-was something to do.
-
-There was no regular service that Sunday in the
-church where she usually attended, and as the day was
-fine and she was far too restless to remain at home,
-she proposed to her mother that they walk to a little
-chapel about a mile away, where a young Presbyterian
-clergyman was to preach.
-
-She had heard much of his eloquence, and as his
-name was McDonald, he might possibly be some distant
-relative, inasmuch as her father was of Scotch
-descent, and she felt a double interest in him, and
-with her mother was among the first who entered the
-little humble building, and took a seat upon one of
-the hard, uncomfortable benches near the pulpit.
-
-The speaker was young,—about Tom's age,—and
-with a look on his florid face and a sound in his voice
-so like that of the dead man that Daisy half started
-to her feet when he first took his stand in front of her,
-and announced the opening hymn. His text was,
-"Why stand ye here all the day idle?" and so well
-did he handle it, and so forcible were his gestures and
-eloquent his style of delivery, that Daisy listened to
-him spell-bound, her eyes fixed intently upon his
-glowing face, and her ears drinking in every word he
-uttered.
-
-After dwelling a time upon the loiterers in God's
-vineyard, the idlers from choice, who worked not for
-lack of an inclination to do so, he spoke next of the
-class whose whole life was a weariness for want of
-something to do, and to these he said, "Have you
-never read how, when the disciples rebuked the grateful
-woman for wasting upon her Master's head what
-might have been sold for three hundred pence, and
-given to the poor, Jesus said unto them, 'The poor ye
-have with you always,' and is it not so, my hearers?
-Are there no poor at your door to be fed, no hungry
-little ones to be cared for out of the abundance which
-God has only loaned for this purpose? Are there no
-wretched homes which you can make happier, no aching
-hearts which a kind word would cheer? Remember
-there is a blessing pronounced for even the cup of
-cold water, and how much greater shall be the reward
-of those who, forgetting themselves, seek the good of
-others and turn not away from the needy and the
-desolate. See to it, then, you to whom God has given
-much. See to it that you sit not down in idle ease,
-wasting upon yourself alone the goods designed for
-others; for to whom much is given of him much shall
-be required."
-
-Attracted, perhaps, by the deep black of Daisy's
-attire, or the something about her which marked her
-as different from the mass of his hearers, the speaker
-seemed to address the last of his remarks directly to
-her, and had the dead Tom risen from his grave and
-spoken with her face to face, she could hardly have
-been more affected than she was. The resemblance
-was so striking and the voice so like her cousin's, that
-she felt as if she had received a message direct from
-him; or, if not from him, she surely had from God,
-whose almoner she henceforth would be.
-
-That day was the beginning of a new life to her.
-Thenceforth there must be no more repining; no more
-idle, listless days, no more wishing for something to
-do. There was work all around her, and she found it
-and did it with a will,—first, from a sense of duty, and
-at last for the real pleasure it afforded her to carry
-joy and gladness to the homes where want and sorrow
-had been so long.
-
-Hearing that there was sickness and destitution
-among the miners in Peru, where her possessions
-were, she went there early in November, and many a
-wretched heart rejoiced because of her, and many a
-lip blessed the beautiful lady whose coming among
-them was productive of so much good. Better dwellings,
-better wages, a church, a school-house followed
-in her footsteps, and then, when everything seemed in
-good working order, there came over her a longing for
-her native country, and the next autumn found her in
-New York, where in a short space of time everybody
-knew of the beautiful Miss McDonald, who was a
-millionaire and who owned the fine house and grounds
-in the upper part of the city not far from the Park.
-
-Here society claimed her again, and Daisy, who
-had no morbid fancies now, yielded in part to its
-claims, and became, if not a belle, at least a favorite,
-whose praises were in every mouth. But chiefly was
-she known and loved by the poor and the despised
-whom she daily visited, and to whom her presence
-was like the presence of an angel.
-
-"You do look lovely and sing so sweet; I know
-there's nothing nicer in Heaven," said a little piece of
-deformity to her one day as it lay dying in her arms.
-"I'se goin' to Heaven, which I shouldn't have done if
-you'se hadn't gin me the nice bun and told me of
-Jesus. I loves Him now, and I'll tell Him how you
-bringed me to Him."
-
-Such was the testimony of one dying child, and it
-was dearer to Daisy than all the words of flattery ever
-poured into her ear. As she had brought that little
-child to God so she would bring others, and she made
-her work among the children especially, finding there
-her best encouragement and greatest success.
-
-Once when Guy Thornton chanced to be in the
-city and driving in the Park, he saw a singular sight—a
-pair of splendid bays arching their graceful necks
-proudly, their silver-tipped harness flashing in the
-sunlight, and their beautiful mistress radiant with
-happiness as she sat in her open carriage, not with
-gayly-dressed friends, but amid a group of poorly-clad
-pale-faced little ones, to whom the Park was paradise,
-and she the presiding angel.
-
-"Look,—that's Miss McDonald," Guy's friend said
-to him, "the greatest heiress in New York, and I
-reckon the one who does the most good. Why, she
-supports more old people and children and runs more
-ragged schools than any half-dozen men in the city,
-and I don't suppose there's a den in New York where
-she has not been, and never once, I'm told, was she
-insulted, for the vilest of them stand between her and
-harm. Once a miscreant on Avenue A knocked a boy
-down for accidently stepping in a pool of water and
-spattering her white dress in passing. Friday nights
-she has a reception for these people, and you ought to
-see how well they behave. At first they were noisy
-and rough, and she had to have the police, but now
-they are quiet and orderly as you please, Perhaps
-you'd like to go to one. I know Miss McDonald, and
-will take you with me."
-
-Guy said he should not be in town on Friday, as
-he must, return to Cuylerville the next day, and with
-a feeling he could not quite analyze he turned to look
-at the turnout which excited so much attention. But
-it was not so much at the handsome bays and the
-bevy of queer-looking children he gazed, as at the
-lady in their midst, clad in velvet and ermine, with a
-long white feather falling among the curls of her
-bright hair. When Daisy first entered upon her new
-life, she had affected a nun-like garb as most appropriate,
-but after a little child said to her once: "I
-don't like your black gown all the time. I likes
-sumptin' bright and pretty," she changed her dress
-and gave freer scope to her natural good taste and
-love of what was becoming. And the result showed
-the wisdom of the change, for the children and inmates
-of the dens she visited, accustomed only to the
-squallor and ugliness of their surroundings, hailed her
-more rapturously than they had done before, and were
-never weary of talking of the beautiful woman who
-was not afraid to wear her pretty clothes into their
-wretched houses, which gradually grew more clean
-and tidy for her sake.
-
-"It wasn't for the likes of them gownds to trail
-through sich truck," Bridget O'Donohue said, and on
-the days when Daisy was expected, she scrubbed the
-floor, which, until Daisy's advent had not known
-water for years, and rubbed and polished the one
-wooden chair kept sacred for the lady's use.
-
-Other women, too, caught Biddy's spirit and
-scrubbed their floors and their children's faces on the
-day when Miss McDonald was to call, and when she
-came, she was watched narrowly, lest by some chance
-a speck of dirt should fall upon her, and her becoming
-dress and handsome face were commented on and remembered
-as some fine show which had been seen for
-nothing. Especially did the children like her in her
-bright dress, and the velvet and ermine in which she
-was clad when Guy met her in the Park were worn
-more for their sakes, than for the gaze of those to
-whom such things were no novelties. To Guy she
-looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her
-before, and there was in his heart a feeling like a want
-of something lost, as her carriage disappeared from,
-view and he lost sight of the fair face and form which
-had once been his own.
-
-The world was going well with Guy, for though
-Dick Trevylian had paid no part of the one hundred
-thousand dollars, and he still lived in the Brown Cottage
-on the hill, he was steadily working his way to
-competency, if not to wealth. His profession as lawyer,
-which he had resumed, yielded him a remunerative
-income, while his contributions to different
-magazines were much sought after, so that to all
-human appearance he was prosperous and happy.
-Prosperous in his business, and happy in his wife and
-little ones, for there was now a second child, a baby
-Guy of six weeks old, and when on his return from
-New York the father bent over the cradle of his boy,
-and kissed his baby face, that image seen in the Park
-seemed to fade away, and the caresses he gave to Julia
-had in them no faithlessness or insincerity. She was
-a noble woman, and had made him a good wife, and
-he loved her truly, though with a different, less absorbing,
-less ecstatic love than he had given to Daisy. But
-he did not tell her of Miss McDonald. Indeed, that
-name was never spoken now, nor was any reference
-ever made to her except when the little Daisy sometimes
-asked where was the lady for whom she was
-named, and why she did not send her a doll.
-
-"I hardly think she knows there is such a chit as
-you," Guy said to her once, when sorely pressed on
-the subject; and then the child wondered how that
-could be; and wished she was big enough to write her
-a letter and ask her to come and see her.
-
-Every day after that little Daisy played "make
-b'leve Miss Mack-Dolly" was there, said Mack-Dolly
-being represented by a bundle of shawls tied up to
-look like a figure and seated in a chair. At last there
-came to the cottage a friend of Julia's, a young lady
-from New York, who knew Miss McDonald, and who,
-while visiting in Cuylerville, accidentally learned that
-she was the divorced wife, of whose existence she
-knew, but of whom she had never spoken to Mrs.
-Thornton. Hearing the little one talking one day to
-Miss Mack-Dolly, asking her why she never wrote, nor
-sent a "sing" to her *sake-name*, the young lady said:
-
-"Why don't you send Miss McDonald a letter?
-You tell me what to say and I'll write it down for
-you, but don't let mamma know till you see if you get
-anything."
-
-The little girl's fancy was caught at once with the
-idea, and the following letter was the result:
-
-.. class:: right
-
- ":small-caps:`Brown Cottage`, 'Most Tissmas time.
-
-":small-caps:`Dear Miss Mac-Dolly`:—I'se an 'ittle dirl named for you, I
-is, Daisy Thornton, an' my papa is Mr. Guy, an' mam-ma is Julia, and
-'ittle brother is Guy, too—only he's a baby, and vomits up his dinner
-and ties awfully sometimes; an' I knows anoder 'ittle dirl named for
-somebody who dives her 'sings,' a whole lot, an' why doesn't youse dive
-me some, when I'se your sake-name, an' loves you ever so much, and why
-you never turn here to see me? I wish you would. I ask papa is you
-pretty, an' he tell me yes, bootiful, an' every night I pays for you and
-say God bress papa an' mam-ma, an' auntie, and Miss Mac-Dolly, and
-'ittle brodder, an' make Daisy a dood dirl, and have Miss Mac-Dolly send
-her sumptin' for Tissmas, for Christ's sake. An' I wants a turly headed
-doll that ties and suts her eyes when she does to seep, and wears a
-shash and a pairesol, and anodder big dolly to be her mam-ma and pank
-her when she's naughty, an' I wants an' 'ittle fat-iran, an' a
-cook-stove, an' washboard. I'se dot a tub. An' I wants some dishes an' a
-stenshun table, an' 'ittle bedstead, an' yuffled seets, an' pillars, an'
-bue silk kilt, an' ever many sings which papa cannot buy, cause he
-hasn't dot the money. Vill you send them, Miss Mac-Dolly, pese, an' your
-likeness, too. I wants to see how you looks. My mam-ma is pretty, with
-back hair an' eyes, but she's awful old—I dess. How old is you? Papa's
-hair is some dray, an' his viskers, too. My eyes is bue.
-
-.. class:: right
-
- "Yours, respectfully, ":small-caps:`Daisy Thornton`."
-
-----
-
-Miss McDonald had been shopping since ten in the
-morning, and her carriage had stood before dry goods
-stores, and toy shops, and candy stores, while bundle
-after bundle had been deposited on the cushions and
-others ordered to be sent. But she was nearly through
-now, and, just as it was beginning to grow dark in the
-streets, she bade her coachman drive home, where
-dinner was waiting for her in the dining-room, and
-her mother was waiting in the parlor. Mrs. McDonald
-was not very well, and had kept her room all day, but
-she was better that night, and came down to dine with
-her daughter. The December wind was cold and raw,
-and a few snowflakes fell on Daisy's hat and cloak as
-she ran up the steps and entered the warm, bright
-room, which seemed so pleasant when contrasted with
-the dreariness without.
-
-"Oh, how nice this is, and how tired and cold I
-am!" she said, as she bent over the blazing fire.
-
-"Are you through with your shopping?" Mrs. McDonald
-asked, in a half-querulous tone, as if she did
-not altogether approve of her daughter's acts.
-
-"Yes, all through, except a shawl for old Sarah
-Mackie, and a few more toys for Biddy Warren's
-blind boy," Daisy said, and her mother replied:
-"Well, I'm sure I shall be glad for your sake when it
-is over. You'll make youself sick, and you are nearly
-worn out now, remembering everbody in New York."
-
-"Not quite everybody, mother," Daisy rejoined,
-cheerfully; "only those whom everybody forgets,—the
-poor, whom we have with us always. Don't you
-remember the text, and the little kirk where we heard
-it preached from? But come,—dinner is ready, and I
-am hungry, I assure you."
-
-She led the way to the handsome dining-room, and
-took her seat at the table, looking, in her dark street
-dress, as her mother had said, pale and worn, as if the
-shopping had been very hard upon her. And yet it
-was not so much the fatigue of the day which affected
-her as the remembrance of a past she did not often
-dare to recall.
-
-It was at Christmas time years ago that she first
-met with Guy, and all the day long, as she turned
-over piles of shawls, and delaines, and flannels, or
-ordered packages of candy, and bonbons, and dollies
-by the dozen, her thoughts had been with Guy and
-the time she met him at Leiter and Field's and he
-walked home with her. It seemed to her years and
-years ago, and the idea of having lived so long made
-her feel old and tired and worn. But the nice dinner
-and the cheer of the room revived her, and her face
-looked brighter and more rested when she returned to
-the parlor, and began to show her mother her purchases.
-
-Daisy did not receive many letters except on business,
-and, as these usually came in the morning, she
-did not think to ask if the postman had left her anything;
-and so it was not until her mother had retired
-and she was about going to her own room, that she
-saw a letter lying on the hall-stand. Miss Barker,
-who had instigated the letter, had never written to
-her more than once or twice, and then only short
-notes, and she did not recognize the handwriting at
-once. But she saw it was post-marked Cuylerville,
-and a sick, faint sensation crept over her as she wondered
-who had sent it, and if it contained news of
-Guy. It was long since she had heard of him,—not,
-in fact, since poor Tom's death; and she knew nothing
-of the little girl called for herself, and thus had
-no suspicion of the terrible shock awaiting her, when
-at last she broke the seal. Miss Barker had written a
-few explanatory lines, which were as follows:
-
-.. class:: right
-
- ":small-caps:`Cuylerville`, Dec., 18—.
-
-":small-caps:`Dear Miss McDonald`:—Since saying good-bye to you last
-June, and going off to the mountains and seaside, while you, like a good
-Samaritan, stayed in the hot city to look after 'your people,' I have
-flitted hither and thither until at last I floated out to Cuylerville to
-visit Mrs. Guy Thornton, who is a friend and former schoolmate of mine.
-Here,—not in the house, but in town,—I have heard a story which
-surprised me not a little, and I now better understand that sad look I
-have so often seen on your face without at all suspecting the cause.
-
-"Dear friend, pardon me, won't you, for the liberty I have taken since
-knowing your secret? You would, I am sure, if you only knew what a dear,
-darling little creature Mr. Thornton's eldest child is. Did you know he
-had called her Daisy for you? He has, and with her blue eyes and bright
-auburn hair, she might pass for your very own, with the exception of her
-nose, which is decidedly *retrousse*. She is three years old, and the
-most precocious little witch you ever saw. What think you of her making
-up a bundle of shawls and aprons, and christening it *Miss Mac-Dolly*,
-her name for you, and talking to it as if it were really the famous and
-beautiful woman she fancies it to be? She is your 'sake-name,' she says,
-and before I knew the facts of the case, I was greatly amused by her
-talk to the bundle of shawls which she reproached for never having sent
-her anything. When I asked Julia (that's Mrs. Thornton) who Miss
-Mac-Dolly was, she merely answered, 'the lady for whom Daisy was named,'
-and that was all I knew until the gossips enlightened me, when, without
-a word to any one, I resolved upon a liberty which I thought I could
-venture to take with you. I suggested the letter which I inclose, and
-which I wrote exactly as the words came from the little lady's lips.
-Neither Mr. Thornton, nor his wife, know aught of the letter, nor will
-they unless you respond, for the child will keep her own counsel, I am
-well assured.
-
-"Again forgive me if I have done wrong, and believe me, as ever,
-
-.. class:: right
-
- "Yours, sincerely, ":small-caps:`Ella Barker`."
-
-----
-
-Daisy's face was pale as ashes as she read Miss
-Barker's letter, and then snatching up the other devoured
-its contents almost at a glance, while her
-breath came in panting gasps, and her heart seemed
-trying to burst through her throat. She could neither
-move nor cry out for a moment, but sat like one
-turned to stone, with a sense of suffocation oppressing
-her, and a horrible pain in her heart. She had
-thought the grave was closed, the old wound healed
-by time and silence, and now a little child had torn it
-open, and it was bleeding and throbbing again with a
-pang such as she had never felt before, while there
-crept over her such a feeling of desolation and loneliness,
-a want of something unpossessed, as few have
-ever experienced.
-
-But for her own foolishness that sweet little child
-might have been hers, she thought, as her heart went
-after the little one with an indescribable yearning
-which made her stretch out her arms as if to take the
-baby to her bosom and hold it there forever. Guy
-had called it for *her*, and that touched her more than
-anything else. He had not forgotten her then. She
-had never supposed he had, but to be thus assured of
-it was very sweet, and as she thought of it, and read
-again little Daisy's letter, the tightness about her
-heart and the choking sensation in her throat began
-to give way, and one after another the great tears
-rolled down her cheeks, slowly at first, but gradually
-faster and faster until they fell in torrents, and a tempest
-of sobs shook her frame, as with her head bowed
-upon her dressing-table she gave vent to her grief.
-It seemed to her she never could stop crying or grow
-calm again, for as often as she thought of the touching
-words, "I pays for you," there came a fresh burst
-of sobs and tears, until at last nature was exhausted,
-and with a low moan Daisy sank upon her knees and
-tried to pray, the words which first sprang to her lips
-framing themselves into thanks that somewhere in the
-world there was one who prayed for her and loved
-her too, even though the love might have for its object
-merely dolls, and candies, and toys. And these
-the child should have in abundance, and Miss McDonald
-found herself longing for the morrow in which to
-begin again the shopping she had thought was nearly
-ended.
-
-It was in vain next day that her mother remonstrated
-against her going out, pleading her white,
-haggard face and the rawness of the day. Daisy was
-not to be detained at home, and before ten o'clock she
-was down on Broadway, and the dolly with the
-"shash," and "pairesol," which she had seen the day
-before under its glass case was hers for twenty-five
-dollars, and the plainer bit of china, who was to be
-dollie's mother and perform the parental duty of
-"panking her when she was naughty," was also purchased,
-and the dishes, and the table, and stove, and
-bedstead, with ruffled sheets, and pillow-cases, and
-blue satin spread, and the washboard, and clothes-bars,
-and tiny wringer, and diverse other toys, were bought
-with a disregard of expense which made Miss McDonald
-a wonder to those who waited on her. Such a
-Christmas-box was seldom sent to a child as that which
-Daisy packed in her room that night, with her mother
-looking on and wondering what Sunday-school was to
-be the recipient of all those costly presents, and suggesting
-that cheaper articles would have answered
-just as well.
-
-Everything the child had asked for was there except
-the picture. That Daisy dared not send, lest it
-should look too much like thrusting herself upon Guy's
-notice and wound Julia his wife.
-
-Daisy was strangely pitiful in her thoughts of
-Julia, who would in her turn have pitied her for her
-delusion, could she have known how sure she was that
-but for the tardiness of that letter Guy would have
-chosen his first love in preference to any other.
-
-And it was well that each believed herself first in
-the affection of the man to whom Daisy wanted so
-much to send something as a proof of her unalterable
-love. They were living still in the brown cottage;
-they were not able to buy Elmwood back. Oh, if she
-only dared to do it, how gladly her Christmas gift
-should be the handsome place which they had been so
-proud of. But that would hardly do; Guy might not
-like to be so much indebted to her; he was proud
-and sensitive in many points, and so she abandoned
-the plan for the present, thinking that by and by she
-would purchase and hold it as a gift to her namesake
-on her bridal day. That will be better, she said, as
-she put the last article in the box and saw it leave
-her door, directed to Guy Thornton's care.
-
-----
-
-Great was the surprise at the Brown Cottage,
-when, on the very night before Christmas the box arrived
-and was deposited in the dining-room, where
-Guy and Julia, Miss Barker and Daisy, gathered
-eagerly around it, the later exclaiming:
-
-"I knows where it tum from, I do. My sake-name,
-Miss Mac-Dolly, send it, see did. I writ and
-ask her would see, an' see hab."
-
-"What!" Guy said, as, man-like, he began deliberately
-to untie every knot in the string which his
-wife in her impatience would have cut at once.
-"What does the child mean? Do you know, Julia?"
-
-"I do. I'll explain," Miss Barker said, and in as
-few words as possible she told what she had done,
-while Julia listened with a very grave face, and Guy
-was pale to his lips as he went on untying the string
-and opening the box.
-
-There was a letter lying on the top which he
-handed to Julia, who steadied her voice to read
-aloud:
-
-.. class:: right
-
- "New York, December 22, 18—.
-
-"Darling little *sake-name* :small-caps:`Daisy`:—Your letter made Miss
-Mack-Dolly very happy, and she is so glad to send you the doll with a
-*shash*, and the other toys. Write to me again and tell me if they suit
-you. God bless you, sweet little one, is the prayer of
-
-.. class:: right
-
- ":small-caps:`Miss McDonald`."
-
-After that the grave look left Julia's face, and
-Guy was not quite so pale, as he took out, one after
-another, the articles, which little Daisy hailed with
-rapturous shouts and exclamations of delight.
-
-"Oh, isn't she dood, and don't you love her,
-papa?" she said, while Guy replied:
-
-"Yes, it was certainly very kind in her, and generous.
-No other little girl in town will have such a
-box as this."
-
-He was very white, and there was a strange look
-in his eyes, but his voice was perfectly natural as he
-spoke, and one who knew nothing of his former relations
-to Miss McDonald would never have suspected
-how his whole soul was moved by this gift to his little
-daughter.
-
-"You must write and thank her," he said to Julia,
-who, knowing that this was proper, assented without a
-word, and when on the morning after Christmas Miss
-McDonald opened with trembling hands the envelope
-bearing the Cuylerville post-mark, she felt a
-keen pang of disappointment in finding only a few
-lines from Julia, who expressed her own and little
-Daisy's thanks for the beautiful Christmas box, and
-signed herself:
-
- "Truly, :small-caps:`Mrs. Guy Thornton`."
-
-Not Julia, but Mrs. Guy, and that hurt Daisy more
-than anything else.
-
-"Mrs. Guy Thornton! Why need she thrust upon
-me the name I used to bear?" she whispered, and her
-lip quivered a little, and the tears sprang to her eyes
-as she remembered all that lay between the present
-and the time when she had been Mrs. Guy Thornton.
-
-She was Miss McDonald now, and Guy was another
-woman's husband, and with a bitter pain in her
-heart, she put away Julia's letter, saying, as she did
-so, "And that's the end of that."
-
-The box business had not resulted just as she
-hoped it would. She had thought Guy would write
-himself, and by some word or allusion assure her of
-his remembrance, but instead, there had come to her a
-few perfectly polite and well-expressed lines from
-Julia, who had the *impertinence* to sign herself Mrs.
-Guy Thornton! It was rather hard and sorely disappointing,
-and for many days Miss McDonald's face
-was very white and sad, and both the old and young
-whom she visited as usual wondered what had come
-over the beautiful lady, to make her "so pale and
-sorry."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.—AT SARATOGA.
-========================
-
-
-There were no more letters from Mrs. Guy
-Thornton until the next Christmas, when
-another box went to little Daisy, and was
-acknowledged as before. Then another year glided
-and a third box went to Daisy, and then one summer
-afternoon in the August following, there came to
-Saratoga a gay party from New York, and among
-other names registered at one of the large hotels was
-that of Miss McDonald. It seemed to be her party, or
-at least she was its center, and the one to whom the
-others deferred as to their head. Daisy was in perfect
-health that summer, and in unusually good spirits;
-and when in the evening, yielding to the entreaties of
-her friends, she entered the ball-room, clad in flowing
-robes of blue and white, with costly jewels on her
-neck and arms, she was acknowledged at once as the
-star and belle of the evening. She did not dance,—she
-rarely did that now, but after a short promenade
-through the room she took a seat near the door, and
-was watching the gay dancers, when she felt her arm
-softly touched, and turning saw her maid standing by
-her, with an anxious, frightened look upon her face.
-
-"Come, please, come quick," she said, in a whisper;
-and following her out, Miss McDonald asked what was
-the matter.
-
-"*This*, you must go away at once. I'll pack your
-things. I promised not to tell, but I must. I can't
-see your pretty face all spoiled and ugly."
-
-"What do you mean?" the lady asked, and after a
-little questioning she made out from the girl's statement,
-that in strolling on the back piazza she had
-stumbled upon her first cousin, of whose whereabouts
-she had known nothing for a long time.
-
-This girl, Marie, had, it seemed, come to Saratoga
-a week or ten days before, with her master's family
-consisting of his wife and two little children. As the
-hotel was crowded, they were assigned rooms for the
-night in a distant part of the house, with a promise of
-something much better on the morrow. In the morning,
-however, the lady, who had not been well for
-some days, was too sick to leave her bed, and the
-doctor, who was called in to see her, pronounced the
-disease,—here Sarah stopped and gasped for breath,
-and looked behind her and all ways, and finally whispered
-a word which made even Miss McDonald start a
-little and wince with fear.
-
-"He do call it the *very-o-lord*," Sarah said, "but
-Mary says it's the *very old one* himself. She knows,
-she has had it, and you can't put down a pin where it
-didn't have its claws. They told the landlord, who
-was for putting them straight out of doors, but the
-doctor said the lady must not be moved,—it was sure
-death to do it. It was better to keep quiet, and not
-make a panic. Nobody need to know it in the house,
-and their rooms are so far from everybody that nobody
-would catch it. So he let them stay, and the
-gentleman takes care of her, and Mary keeps the
-children in the next room, and carries and brings the
-things, and keeps away from everybody. Two of the
-servants know it, and they've had it, and don't tell,
-and she said I mustn't, nor come that side of the house,
-but I must tell you so that you can leave to-morrow.
-The lady is very bad, and nobody takes care of her
-but Mr. Thornton. Mary takes things to the door,
-and leaves them outside where he can get them."
-
-"What did you call the gentleman?" Miss McDonald
-asked, her voice faltering and her cheek
-blanching a little.
-
-"Mr. Thornton, from Cuylerville, a place far in
-the country," was the girl's reply; and then, without
-waiting to hear more, Miss McDonald darted away,
-and going to the office, turned the leaves of the Register
-to the date of ten or eleven days ago, and read
-with a beating heart and quick coming breath:
-
-"Mr. and Mrs. Guy Thornton, two children and
-servant. No. -- and --."
-
-Yes, it was Guy; there could be no mistake, and
-in an instant her resolution was taken. Calling her
-maid, she sent for her shawl and hat, and then, bidding
-her follow, walked away in the moonlight. The previous
-summer when at Saratoga, she had received
-medical treatment from Dr. Schwartz, whom she knew
-well, and to whose office she directed her steps. He
-seemed surprised to see her at that hour, but greeted
-her cordially, asked when she came to town and what
-he could do for her.
-
-"Tell me if this is still a safeguard," she said, baring
-her beautiful white arm, and showing a large
-round scar. "Will this insure me against disease?"
-
-The doctor's face flushed, and he looked uneasily
-at her as he took her arm in his hand and examining
-the scar closely, said:
-
-"The points are still distinct. I should say the
-vaccination was thorough."
-
-"But another will be safer. Have you fresh matter?"
-Daisy asked, and he replied:
-
-"Yes, some just from a young, healthy cow. I
-never use the adulterated stuff which has been humanized.
-How do I know what humors may be lurking
-in the blood? Why, some of the fairest, sweetest
-babies are full of scrofula."
-
-He was going on further with his discussion, when
-Daisy, who knew his peculiarities, interrupted him.
-
-"Never mind the lecture now. Vaccinate me
-quick, and let me go."
-
-It was soon done; the doctor saying, as he put
-away his vial:
-
-"You were safe without it, I think, and with it you
-may have no fears whatever."
-
-He looked at her curiously again as if asking what
-she knew or feared, and observing the look, Daisy said
-to him:
-
-"Do you attend the lady at the hotel?"
-
-He bowed affirmatively and glanced uneasily at
-Sarah, who was looking on in surprise.
-
-"Is she very sick?" was the next inquiry.
-
-"Yes, very sick."
-
-"And does no one care for her but her husband?"
-
-"No one."
-
-"Has she suffered for care,—a woman's care, I
-mean?"
-
-"Well, not exactly; and yet she might be more
-comfortable with a woman about her. Women are
-naturally better nurses than men, and Mr. Thornton is
-quite worn out, but it does not make much difference
-now; the lady——"
-
-Daisy did not hear the last part of the sentence,
-and bidding him good-night, she went back to the
-hotel as swiftly as she had left it, while the doctor
-stood watching the flutter of her white dress, wondering
-how she found it out, and if she would "tell and
-raise *Cain* generally."
-
-"Of course not. I know her better than that," he
-said, to himself. "Poor woman" (referring then to
-Julia). "Nothing, I fear, can help her now."
-
-Meanwhile, Daisy had reached the hotel, and without
-going to her own room, bade Sarah tell her the
-way to No. —.
-
-"What! Oh, Miss McDonald! You surely are
-not——" Sarah gasped, clutching at the dress, which
-her mistress took from her grasp, saying:
-
-"Yes, I am going to see that lady. I know her, or
-of her, and I'm not afraid. Must we let her die
-alone?"
-
-"But your face,—your beautiful face," Sarah said,
-and then Daisy did hesitate a moment, and glancing
-into a hall mirror, wondered how the face she saw
-there, and which she knew was beautiful, would look
-scarred and disfigured as she had seen faces in New
-York.
-
-There was a momentary conflict, and then, with an
-inward prayer that Heaven would protect her, she
-passed on down the narrow hall and knocked softly at
-No. —, while Sarah stood wringing her hands in
-genuine distress, and feeling as if her young mistress
-had gone to certain ruin.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.—IN THE SICK ROOM.
-==============================
-
-
-Julia had the small-pox in its most aggravated
-form. Where she took it, or when,
-she did not know; nor did it matter. She
-*had* it, and for ten days she had seen no one but her
-husband and physician, and had no care but such as
-Guy could give her. He had been unremitting in his
-attention. Tender and gentle as a woman, he had
-nursed her night and day, with no thought for himself
-and the risk he ran. It was a bad disease at the best,
-and now in its worse type it was horrible, but Julia
-bore up bravely, thinking always more of others than
-of herself, and feeling so glad that Providence had
-sent them to those out-of-the-way rooms, where she
-had at first thought she could not pass a night
-comfortably. Her children were in the room adjoining,
-and she could hear their little voices as they played
-together, or asked for their mamma, and why they
-must not see her. Alas! they would never see her
-again; she knew, and Guy knew it too. The doctor
-had told them so when he left them that night, and
-between the husband and wife words had been spoken
-such as are only said when hearts which have been one
-are about to be severed for ever.
-
-To Julia there was no terror in death, save as it
-took her from those she loved, her husband and her
-little ones, and these she had given into God's keeping
-knowing His promises are sure. To Guy she had
-said:
-
-"You have made me so happy. I want you to
-remember when I am gone, that I would not have one
-look or act of yours changed if I could, and yet, forgive
-me, Guy, for saying it, but I know you must
-often have thought of that other one whom, you loved
-first, and it may be best."
-
-Guy could not speak, but he smoothed her hair
-tenderly, and his tears dropped upon the swollen face
-he could not kiss, as Julia went on.
-
-"But if you did, you never showed it in the least,
-and I bless you for it. Take good care of my children;
-teach them to remember their mother, and if
-in time there comes another in my place, and other
-little ones than mine call you father, don't forget me
-quite, because I love you so much. Oh, Guy, my darling,
-it is hard to say good-bye, and know that after a
-little this world will go on the same as if I had never
-been. Don't think I am afraid. I am not, for Jesus
-is with me, and I know I am safe; but still there's a
-clinging to life, which has been so pleasant to me.
-Tell your sister how I loved her. I know she will
-miss me, and be good to my children, and if you ever
-meet *that other one*, tell her,—tell her,—I——"
-
-The faint voice faltered here, and when it spoke
-again, it said:
-
-"Lift me up, Guy, so I can breathe better while I
-tell you."
-
-He lifted her up and held her in his arms, while
-through the open window the summer air and the silver
-moonlight streamed, and in the distance was
-heard the sound of music as the dance went merrily
-on. And just then, when she was in the minds of
-both, Daisy came, and her gentle knock broke the
-silence of the room and startled both Guy and Julia.
-
-Who was it that sought entrance to that death-laden,
-disease-poisoned room? Not the doctor, sure,
-for he always entered unannounced, and who else
-dared to come there? Thus Guy questioned, hesitating
-to answer the knock, when to his utter surprise
-the door opened and a little figure, clad in airy robes
-of white, with its bright hair wreathed with flowers
-and gems, came floating in, the blue eyes shining like
-stars, and the full red lips parted with the smile, half
-pleased, half shy, which Guy remembered so well.
-
-"Daisy, Daisy!" he cried, and his voice rang like
-a bell through the room, as, laying Julia's head back
-upon the pillow, he sprang to Daisy's side, and taking
-her by the shoulder, pushed her gently toward the
-door, saying:
-
-"Why have you come here? Leave us at once;
-don't you see? don't you know?" and he pointed
-toward Julia, whose face showed so plainly in the gaslight.
-
-"Yes, I know, and I came to help you take care of
-her. I am not afraid," Daisy said, and freeing herself
-from his grasp, she walked straight up to Julia and
-laid her soft white hand upon her head. "I am
-Daisy," she said, "and I've come to take care of you.
-I just heard you were here. How hot your poor head
-is; let me bathe it; shall I?"
-
-She went to the bowl, and wringing a cloth in ice
-water, bathed the sick woman's head and held the cool
-cloth to the face and wiped the parched lips and
-rubbed the feverish hands, while Guy stood, looking
-on, bewildered and confounded, and utterly unable to
-say a word or utter a protest to this angel, as it seemed
-to him, who had come unbidden to his aid, forgetful of
-the risk she ran and the danger she incurred. Once,
-as she turned her beautiful face to him and he saw
-how wondrously fair and lovely it was, lovely with a
-different expression from any he had ever seen there,
-it came over him with a thrill of horror that that face
-must not be marred and disfigured with the terrible
-pestilence, and he made another effort to send her
-away. But Daisy would not go.
-
-"I am not afraid," she said. "I have just been
-vaccinated, and there was already a good scar on my
-arm; look!" and she pushed back her sleeve, and
-showed her round, white arm with the mark upon it.
-
-Guy did not oppose her after that, but let her do
-what she liked, and when, an hour later, the doctor
-came, he found his recent visitor sitting on Julia's bed,
-with Julia's head lying against her bosom and Julia
-herself asleep. Some word which sounded very much
-like "thunderation" escaped his lips, but he said no
-more, for he saw in the sleeping woman's face a look
-he never mistook. It was death; and ten minutes
-after he entered the room Julia Thornton lay dead in
-Daisy's arms.
-
-There was a moment or so of half consciousness,
-during which they caught the words, "So kind in you;
-it makes me easier; be good to the children; one is
-called for you, but Guy loved me too. Good-bye. I
-am going to Jesus."
-
-That was the last she ever spoke, and a moment
-after she was dead. In his fear lest the facts should
-be known to his guests, the host insisted that the body
-should be removed under cover of the night, and as
-Guy knew the railway officials would object to taking
-it on any train, there was no alternative except to
-bury it in town; and so there was brought to the
-room a close plain coffin, and Daisy helped lay Julia
-in it, and put a white flower in her hair and folded her
-hands upon her bosom, and then watched from the
-window the little procession which followed the body
-out to the cemetery, where, in the stillness of the coming
-day, they buried it, together with everything which
-had been used about the bed, Daisy's party dress
-included; and when at last the full morning broke,
-with stir and life in the hotel, all was empty and still
-in the fumigated chamber of death, and in the adjoining
-room, clad in a simple white wrapper, with a blue
-ribbon in her hair, Daisy sat with Guy's little boy on
-her lap and her namesake at her side, amusing them as
-best she could and telling them their mamma had gone
-to live with Jesus.
-
-"Who'll be our mamma now? We must have
-one. Will oo?" little Daisy asked, as she hung about
-the neck of her new friend.
-
-She knew it was Miss Mack-Dolly, her "sake-name,"
-and in her delight at seeing her and her admiration
-of her great beauty, she forgot in part the
-dead mamma on whose grave the summer sun was
-shining.
-
-The Thorntons left the hotel that day and went
-back to the house in Cuylerville, which had been
-closed for a few weeks, for Miss Frances was away
-with some friends in Connecticut. But she returned
-at once when she heard the dreadful news, and was
-there to receive her brother and his motherless little
-ones. He told her of Daisy when he could trust himself
-to talk at all, of Julia's sickness and death, and
-Miss Frances felt her heart go out as it had never
-gone before toward the woman about whom little
-Daisy talked constantly.
-
-"Most bootiful lady," she said, "an' looked des
-like an 'ittle dirl, see was so short, an' her eyes were
-so bue an' her hair so turly."
-
-Miss McDonald had won Daisy's heart, and knowing
-that made her own happier and lighter than it had
-been since the day when the paper came to her with
-the marked paragraph which crushed her so
-completely. There had been but a few words spoken between
-herself and Guy, and these in the presence of
-others, but at their parting he had taken her soft little
-hand in his and held it a moment, while he said, with
-a choking voice, "God bless you, Daisy. I shall not
-forgot your kindness to my poor Julia, and if you
-should need,—but no, that is too horrible to think of;
-may God spare you that. Good-bye."
-
-And that was all that passed between him and
-Daisy with regard to the haunting dread which sent
-her in a few days to her own house in New York,
-where, if the thing she feared came upon her, she
-would at least be at home and know she was not endangering
-the lives of others. But God was good to
-her, and though there was a slight fever with darting
-pains in her back and a film before her eyes, it
-amounted to nothing worse, and might have been the
-result of fatigue and over-excitement; and when, at
-Christmas time, yielding to the importunities of her
-little namesake, there was a picture of herself in the
-box sent to Cuylerville, the face which Guy scanned
-even more eagerly than his daughter, was as smooth
-and fair and beautiful as when he saw it at Saratoga,
-bending over his dying wife.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII.—DAISY'S JOURNAL.
-==============================
-
-.. class:: right
-
-:small-caps:`New York`, June 14, 18—.
-
-To-morrow I am to take my old name of
-Thornton again, and be Guy's wife once
-more. Nor does it seem strange at all
-that I should do so, for I have never thought of myself
-as not belonging to him, even when I knew he
-was married to another. And yet when that dreadful
-night at Saratoga I went to Julia's room, there was in
-my heart no thought of this which has come to me.
-I only wished to care for her and be a help to Guy.
-I did not think of her dying, and after she was dead,
-there was not a thought of the future in my mind
-until little Daisy put it there by asking if I would be
-her mamma. Then I seemed to see it all, and expected
-it up to the very day, six weeks ago, when Guy
-wrote to me, "Daisy, I want you. Will you come to
-me again as my wife?"
-
-I was not surprised. I knew he would say it sometime,
-and I replied at once, "Yes, Guy, I will."
-
-He has been here since, and we have talked it
-over, all the past when I made him so unhappy, and
-when I, too, was so wretched, though I did not say
-much about that, or tell him of the dull, heavy, gnawing
-pain which, sleeping or waking, I carried with me
-so long, and only lost when I began to live for others.
-I did speak of the letter, and said I had loved him
-ever since I wrote it, and that his marrying Julia
-made no difference, and then I told him of poor Tom,
-and what I said to him, not from love but from a
-sense of duty, and when I told him how Tom would
-not take me at my word, he held me close to him and
-said, "I am glad he did not, my darling, for then you
-would never have been mine."
-
-I think we both wept over those two graves, one
-far off in sunny France, the other in Saratoga, and
-both felt how sad it was that they must be made in
-order to bring us together. Poor Julia! She was a
-noble woman, and Guy did love her. He told me so,
-and I am glad of it. I mean to try to be like her in
-those things wherein she excelled me.
-
-We are going straight to Cuylerville to the house
-where I never was but once, and that on the night
-when Guy was sick and Miss Frances made me go
-back in the thunder and rain. She is sorry for that,
-for she told me so in the long, kind letter she wrote,
-calling me her little sister and telling me how glad
-she is to have me back once more. Accidentally I
-heard Elmwood was for sale, and without letting Guy
-know I bought it, and sent him the deed, and we are
-going to make it the most attractive place in the
-county.
-
-It will be our summer home, but in the winter my
-place is here in New York with my people, who
-would starve and freeze without me. Guy has agreed
-to that and will be a great help to me. He need
-never work any more unless he chooses to do so, for
-my agent says I am a millionaire, thanks to poor Tom,
-who gave me his gold mine and his interest in that
-railroad. And for Guy's sake I am glad, and for his
-children, the precious darlings; how much I love
-them already, and how kind I mean to be to them
-both for Julia's sake and Guy's. Hush! That's his
-ring, and there's his voice in the hall asking for Miss
-McDonald, and so for the last time I write that name,
-and sign myself
-
-.. class:: right
-
-:small-caps:`Margaret McDonald`.
-
-----
-
-.. class:: center
-
-*Extracts from Miss Frances Thornton's Diary.*
-
-.. class:: right
-
-:small-caps:`Elmwood`, June 15th, —.
-
-I have been looking over an old journal, finished
-and laid away long ago, and accidentally I stumbled
-upon a date eleven years back. It was Guy's wedding
-day then; it is his anniversary now, and as on that
-June day years ago I worked among my flowers, so
-have I been with them this morning, and as then
-people from the Towers came into our beautiful
-grounds, so they came to-day and praised our lovely
-place and said there was no spot like it in all the
-country round. But Julia was not with them. She
-will never come to us again. Julia is dead, and her
-grave is in Saratoga, for Guy dare not have her
-moved, but he has erected a costly monument to her
-memory, and the mound above her is like some bright
-flower bed all the summer long, for he hires a man to
-tend it, and goes twice each season to see that it is
-kept as he wishes to have it. Julia is dead and Daisy
-is here again at Elmwood, which she purchased with
-her own money, and fitted up with every possible convenience
-and luxury.
-
-Guy is ten years younger than he used to be, and
-we are all so happy with this little fairy, who has
-expanded into a noble woman, and whom I love as I
-never loved a living being before, Guy excepted, of
-course. I never dreamed when I turned her out into
-the rain that I should love her as I do, or that she was
-capable of being what she is. I would not have her
-changed in any one particular, and neither, I am sure,
-would Guy, while the children fairly worship her, and
-must sometimes be troublesome with their love and
-their caresses.
-
-It is just a year since she came back to us. We
-were in the small house then, but Daisy's very presence
-seemed to brighten and beautify it, until I was
-almost sorry to leave it last April for this grand place
-with all its splendor.
-
-There was no wedding at all; that is, there were
-no invited guests, but never had bride greater honor
-at her bridal than our Daisy had, for the church where
-the ceremony was performed, at a very early hour in
-the morning, was literally crowded with the halt, the
-lame, the maimed and the blind; the slum of New
-York; gathered from every back street, and by-lane,
-and gutter; Daisy's "people," as she calls them, who
-came to see her married, and who, strangest of all,
-brought with them a present for the bride; a beautiful
-family Bible, golden clasped and bound, and costing
-fifty dollars. Sandy McGraw presented it, and he
-had written upon the fly leaf, "To the dearest friend
-we ever had, we give this book, as a slight token of
-how much we love her." Then followed, upon a sheet
-of paper, the names of the donors and how much each
-gave. Oh, how Daisy cried when she saw the *ten
-cents*, and the *five cents*, and the *three cents*, and the
-*one cent*, and knew it had all been earned and saved at
-some personal sacrifice for her. I do believe she would
-have kissed every one of them if Guy had permitted
-it. She did kiss the children and shook every hard,
-soiled hand there, and then Guy took her away and
-brought her to our home, where she has been the
-sweetest, merriest, happiest, little creature that ever a
-man called wife, or a woman sister. She does leave
-her things round a little, to be sure, and she is not
-always ready for breakfast. I guess she never will
-wholly overcome those habits, but I can put up with
-them now better than I could once. Love makes a vast
-difference in our estimate of others, and she could
-scarcely ruffle me now, even if she kept breakfast waiting
-every morning and left her clothes lying three
-garments deep upon the floor. As for Guy,—but his
-happiness is something I cannot describe. Nothing
-can disturb his peace, which is as firm as the everlasting
-hills. He does not caress her as much as he did
-once, but his thoughtful care of her is wonderful, and
-she is never long from his sight without his going to
-seek her.
-
-May God bless them and keep them always as they
-are now, at peace with Him and all in all to each
-other.
-
-
-.. class:: center
-
-THE END.
---------
-
-
-.. class:: x-large
-
-POPULAR NOVELS BY *MRS. MARY J. HOLMES.*
-
- | :small-caps:`Tempest and Sunshine.`
- | :small-caps:`English Orphans.`
- | :small-caps:`Homestead on Hillside.`
- | :small-caps:`'Lena Rivers.`
- | :small-caps:`Meadow Brook.`
- | :small-caps:`Dora Deane.`
- | :small-caps:`Cousin Maude.`
- | :small-caps:`Marian Grey.`
- | :small-caps:`Edith Lyle.`
- | :small-caps:`Daisy Thornton.`
- | :small-caps:`Chateau d'Or` (*New*).
- |
- | :small-caps:`Darkness and Daylight.`
- | :small-caps:`Hugh Worthington.`
- | :small-caps:`Cameron Pride.`
- | :small-caps:`Rose Mather.`
- | :small-caps:`Ethelyn's Mistake.`
- | :small-caps:`Millbank.`
- | :small-caps:`Edna Browning.`
- | :small-caps:`West Lawn.`
- | :small-caps:`Mildred`.
- | :small-caps:`Forrest House` (*New*).
-
-
-"Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating
-writer. Her books are always entertaining, and she
-has the rare faculty of enlisting the sympathy
-and affections of her readers, and of holding
-their attention to her pages with
-deep and absorbing interest."
-
-All published uniform with this volume. Price $1.50
-each. Sold everywhere, and sent *free*
-by mail on receipt of price.
-
-.. class:: small
-
- | BY
- | G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers,
- | New York.
-
-
-|
-|
-|
-|
-|
-
-.. _pg_end_line:
-
-\*\*\* END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON \*\*\*
-
-.. backmatter::
-
-.. toc-entry::
- :depth: 0
-
-.. _pg-footer:
-
-.. class:: pgfooter language-en
-
-A Word from Project Gutenberg
-=============================
-
-We will update this book if we find any errors.
-
-This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467
-
-Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one
-owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and
-you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
-permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set
-forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
-copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to
-protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project
-Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge
-for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not
-charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is
-very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as
-creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research.
-They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do
-practically *anything* with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
-subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
-redistribution.
-
-
-.. _Project Gutenberg License:
-
-The Full Project Gutenberg License
-----------------------------------
-
-*Please read this before you distribute or use this work.*
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
-Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at
-http://www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
-````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
-
-**1.A.** By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by
-the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
-or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-
-**1.B.** “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
-and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic
-works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-**1.C.** The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
-Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United
-States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a
-right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free
-access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works
-in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project
-Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with
-the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format
-with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it
-without charge with others.
-
-
-
-**1.D.** The copyright laws of the place where you are located also
-govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most
-countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the
-United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms
-of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country outside the United States.
-
-**1.E.** Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-**1.E.1.** The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work
-on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
-phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
- almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
- re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
- with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org
-
-**1.E.2.** If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
-derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating
-that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work
-can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without
-paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing
-access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with
-or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements
-of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of
-the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in
-paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-**1.E.3.** If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and
-distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and
-any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of
-this work.
-
-**1.E.4.** Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project
-Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a
-part of this work or any other work associated with Project
-Gutenberg™.
-
-**1.E.5.** Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute
-this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg™ License.
-
-**1.E.6.** You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other
-than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site
-(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or
-expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a
-means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original
-“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include
-the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-**1.E.7.** Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-**1.E.8.** You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided
-that
-
-.. class:: open
-
-- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you
- already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to
- the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to
- donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60
- days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally
- required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments
- should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4,
- “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
- Archive Foundation.”
-
-- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
- works.
-
-- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
-
-- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.
-
-**1.E.9.** If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and
-Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact
-the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.
-
-**1.F.**
-
-**1.F.1.** Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend
-considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe
-and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™
-collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic
-works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
-“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
-corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
-property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
-computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
-your equipment.
-
-**1.F.2.** LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the
-“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the
-Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the
-Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a
-Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-**1.F.3.** LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-**1.F.4.** Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set
-forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH
-NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-**1.F.5.** Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-**1.F.6.** INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation,
-the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance
-with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™
-``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
-
-Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain
-freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To
-learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and
-how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the
-Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org .
-
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
-http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the
-Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to
-the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
-S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are
-scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is
-located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801)
-596-1887, email business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date
-contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
-official page at http://www.pglaf.org
-
-For additional contact information:
-
- | Dr. Gregory B. Newby
- | Chief Executive and Director
- | gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
-
-Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread
-public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing
-the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely
-distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of
-equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to
-$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status
-with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
-
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.
-`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
-
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™
-concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
-with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
-Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the
-U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
-eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
-compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
-
-Corrected *editions* of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
-the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is
-renamed. *Versions* based on separate sources are treated as new
-eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
-facility:
-
- http://www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including
-how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
-Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe
-to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-
diff --git a/37467.txt b/37467.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ba471c9..0000000 --- a/37467.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3511 +0,0 @@ - DAISY THORNTON - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: Daisy Thornton - -Author: Mrs. Mary J. Holmes - -Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37467] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. - - BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES, - - AUTHOR OF - _Tempest and Sunshine.--'Lena Rivers.--Darkness and Daylight._ - _--Marian Grey.--English Orphans.--Hugh Worthington.--Millbank._ - _--Ethelyn's Mistake.--Edna Browning, Etc., Etc._ - - "Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder." - - NEW YORK: - Copyright, 1878, by - _G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers_. - - LONDON: S. LOW & CO. - - MDCCCLXXX. - - _Samuel Stodder_, - _Stereotyper_, - _90 Ann Street, N.Y._ - - - _Trow_ - _Printing and Bookbinding_ - _Company._ - - ---- - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I.--EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER II.--EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER III.--EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL. - CHAPTER IV.--AUTHOR'S STORY. - CHAPTER V.--THE DIVORCE. - CHAPTER VI.--EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. - CHAPTER VII.--FIVE YEARS LATER. - CHAPTER VIII.--DAISY'S LETTER. - CHAPTER IX.--DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE. - CHAPTER X.--MISS MCDONALD. - CHAPTER XI.--AT SARATOGA. - CHAPTER XII.--IN THE SICK ROOM. - CHAPTER XIII.--DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - ---- - - DAISY THORNTON - - - - -CHAPTER I.--EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL. - - - Elmwood, June 15th, 18--. - -I have been working among my flowers all the morning, digging, weeding -and transplanting, and then stopping a little to rest. My roses are -perfect beauties this year, while my white lilies are the wonder of the -town, and yet my heart was not with them to-day, and it was nothing to -me that those fine people from the Towers came into the grounds while I -was at work, "just to see and admire," they said, adding that there was -no place in Cuylerville like Elmwood. I know that, and Guy and I have -been so happy here, and I loved him so much, and never dreamed what was -in store for me until it came suddenly like a heavy blow. - -Why should he wish to marry, when he has lived to be thirty years old -without a care of any kind, and has money enough to allow him to indulge -his taste for books, and pictures, and travel, and is respected by -everybody, and looked up to as the first man in town, and petted and -cared for by me as few brothers have ever been petted and cared for? and -if he must marry, why need he take a child of sixteen, whom he has only -known since Christmas, and whose sole recommendation, so far as I can -learn, is her pretty face? - -Daisy McDonald is her name, and she lives in Indianapolis, where her -father is a poor lawyer, and as I have heard, a scheming, unprincipled -man. Guy met her last winter in Chicago, and fell in love at once, and -made two or three journeys West on "important business," he said, and -then, some time in May, told me he was going to bring me a sister, the -sweetest little creature, with beautiful blue eyes and wonderful hair. I -was sure to love her, he said, and when I suggested that she was very -young, he replied that her youth was in her favor, as we could more -easily mould her to the Thornton pattern. - -Little he knows about girls; but then he was perfectly infatuated and -blind to everything but Daisy's eyes, and hair, and voice, which is so -sweet and winning that it will speak for her at once. Then she is so -dainty and refined, he said, and he asked me to see to the furnishing of -the rooms on the west side of the house, the two which communicate with -his own private library, where he spends a great deal of time with his -books and writing. The room adjoining this was to be Daisy's boudoir or -parlor, where she could sit when he was occupied and she wished to be -near him. This was to be fitted up in blue, as she had expressed a wish -to that effect, and he said no expense must be spared to make it as -pretty and attractive as possible. So the walls were frescoed and -tinted, and I spent two entire days in New York hunting for a carpet of -the desirable shade, which should be right both in texture and design. - -Guy was exceedingly particular, and developed a wonderful proclivity to -find fault with everything I admired. Nothing was quite the thing for -Daisy, until at last a manufacturer offered to get a carpet up which was -sure to suit, and so that question was happily settled for the time -being. Then came the furniture, and unlimited orders were given to the -upholsterer to do his best, and matters were progressing finely when -order number two came from the little lady, who was sorry to seem so -fickle, but her mamma, whose taste was perfect, had decided against -_all_ blue, and would Guy please furnish the room with drab trimmed with -blue? - -"It must be a very delicate shade of drab," she wrote, and lest he -should get too intense an idea, she would call it a _tint_ of a _shade_ -of drab, or, better yet, a _hint_ of a tint of a shade of drab would -describe exactly what she meant, and be so entirely unique, and lovely, -and _recherche_. - -Guy never swears, and seldom uses slang of any kind, but this was a -little too much, and with a most rueful expression of countenance he -asked me "what in thunder I supposed a hint of a tint of a shade of drab -could be?" - -I could not enlighten him, and we finally concluded to leave it to the -upholsterer, to whom Guy telegraphed in hot haste, bidding him hunt New -York over for the desired shade. Where he found it I never knew; but -find it he did, or something approximating to it,--a faded, washed-out -color, which seemed a cross between wood-ashes and pale skim milk. A -sample was sent up for Guy's approval, and then the work commenced -again, when order number three came in one of those dainty little -billets which used to make Guy's face radiant with happiness. Daisy had -changed her mind again and gone back to the blue, which she always -preferred as most becoming to her complexion. - -Guy did not say a single word, but he took the next train for New York, -and staid there till the furniture was done and packed for Cuylerville. -As I did not know where he was stopping, I could not forward him two -letters which came during his absence, and which bore the Indianapolis -post-mark. I suspect he had a design in keeping his address from me, -and, whether Daisy changed her mind again or not, I never knew. - -The furniture reached Elmwood the day but one before Guy started for his -bride, and Julia Hamilton, who was then at the Towers, helped me arrange -the room, which is a perfect little gem, and cannot fail to please, I am -sure. I wonder Guy never fancied Julia Hamilton. Oh, if he only had done -so, I should not have as many misgivings as I now have, nor dread the -future so much. Julia is sensible and twenty years old, and lives in -Boston, and comes of a good family, and is every way suitable,--but when -did a man ever choose the woman whom his sister thought suitable for -him? And Guy is like other men, and this is his wedding day; and after a -trip to Montreal, and Quebec, and Boston, and New York, and Saratoga, -they are coming home, and I am to give a grand reception, and then -subside, I suppose, into the position of the "old maid sister who will -be dreadfully in the way." - - ---- - - September 15th, 18--. - -Just three months since I opened my journal, and, on glancing over what -I wrote on Guy's wedding day, I find that in one respect at least I was -unjust to the little creature who is now my sister, and calls me Miss -Frances. Not by a word or look has she shown the least inclination to -assume the position of mistress of the house, nor does she seem to think -me at all in the way; but that she considers me quite an antediluvian I -am certain, for, in speaking of something which happened in 1820, she -asked if I remembered it! And I only three years older than Guy! But -then she once called him a dear old grandfatherly man, and thought it a -good joke that on their wedding tour she was mistaken for his daughter. -She looks so young,--not sixteen even; but with those childish blue -eyes, and that innocent, pleading kind of expression, she never can be -old. She is very beautiful, and I can understand in part Guy's -infatuation, though at times he hardly knows what to do with his pretty -plaything. - -It was the middle of August when they came from Saratoga, sorely against -her wishes, as I heard from the Porters, who were at the same hotel, and -who have told me what a sensation she created, and how much attention -she received. Everybody flattered her, and one evening, when there was -to be a hop at Congress Hall, she received twenty bouquets from as many -different admirers, each of whom asked her hand for the first dance. And -even Guy tried some of the square dances,--with poor success, I imagine, -for Lucy Porter laughed when she told me of it, and the mistakes he -made; and I do not wonder, for my grave, scholarly Guy must be as much -out of place in a ball-room as his little, airy, doll of a wife is in -her place when there. I can understand just how she enjoyed it all, and -how she hated to come to Elmwood, for she did not then know the kind of -home she was coming to. - -It was glorious weather for August, and a rain of the previous day had -washed all the flowers and shrubs, and freshened up the grass on the -lawn, which was just like a piece of velvet, while everything around the -house seemed to laugh in the warm afternoon sunshine as the carriage -came up to the door. Eight trunks, two hat-boxes, and a guitar-case had -come in the morning, and were waiting the arrival of their owner, whose -face looked eagerly out at the house and its surroundings, and it seemed -to me did not light up as much as it should have done under the -circumstances. - -"Why, Guy, I always thought the house was brick," I heard her say, as -the carriage door was opened by the coachman. - -"No, darling,--wood. Ah, there's Fan," was Guy's reply, and the next -moment I had her in my arms. - -Yes, literally in my arms. She is such a wee little thing, and her face -is so sweet, and her eyes so childish and wistful and her voice so -musical and flute-like that before I knew what I was doing I lifted her -from her feet and hugged her hard, and said I meant to love her, first -for Guy's sake, and then for her own. Was it my fancy, I wonder, or did -she really shrink back a little and put up her hands to arrange the -bows, and streamers, and curls floating away from her like the flags on -a vessel on some gala day. - -She was very tired, Guy said, and ought to lie down before dinner. Would -I show her to her room with Zillah, her maid? Then for the first time I -noticed a dark-haired girl who had alighted from the carriage and stood -holding Daisy's traveling-bag and wraps. - -"Her waiting-maid, whom we found in Boston," Guy explained, when we were -alone. "She is so young and helpless, and wanted one so badly, that I -concluded to humor her for a time, especially as I had not the most -remote idea how to pin on those wonderful fixings which she wears. It is -astonishing how many things it takes to make up the _tout ensemble_ of a -fashionable woman," Guy said, and I thought he glanced with an unusual -amount of curiosity and interest at my plain cambric wrapper and smooth -hair. - -Indeed he has taken it upon himself to criticise me somewhat; thinks I -am too slim, as he expresses it, and that my head might be improved if -it had a more snarly appearance. Daisy, of course, stands for his model, -and her hair does not look as if it had been combed in a month, and yet -Zillah spends hours over it. She,--that is, Daisy,--was pleased with her -boudoir, and gave vent to sundry exclamations of delight when she -entered it, skipped around like the child she is, and said she was so -glad it was blue instead of that indescribable drab, and that room is -almost the only thing she has expressed an opinion about since she has -been here. She does not talk much except to Zillah, and then in French, -which I do not understand. If I were to write just what I think I should -say that she had expected a great deal more grandeur than she finds. At -all events, she takes the things which I think very nice and even -elegant as a matter of course, and if we were to set up a style of -living equal to that of the queen's household, I do believe she would -act as if she had been accustomed to it all her life, or, at least, that -it was what she had a right to expect. I know she imagines Guy a great -deal richer than he is; and that reminds me of something which troubles -me. - -Guy has given his name to Dick Trevylian for one hundred thousand -dollars. To be sure it is only for three months, and Dick is worth three -times that amount, and is an old friend and every way reliable and -honest. And still I did not want Guy to sign. I wonder why it is that -women always jump at a conclusion without any apparent reason. Of -course, I could not explain it, but when Guy told me what he was going -to do, I felt in an instant as if he would have it all to pay, and told -him so, but he only laughed at me and called me nervous and fidgety, and -said a friend was good for nothing if he could not lend a helping hand -occasionally. Perhaps that is true, but I was uneasy and shall be glad -when the time is up and the paper canceled. - -Our expenses since Daisy came are double what they were before, and if -we were to lose one hundred thousand dollars now we should be badly off. -Daisy is a luxury Guy has to pay for, but he pays willingly and seems to -grow more and more infatuated every day. "She is such a sweet-tempered, -affectionate little puss," he says; and I admit to myself that she is -sweet-tempered, and that nothing ruffles her, but about the affectionate -part I am not so certain. Guy would pet her and caress her all the time -if she would let him, but she won't. - -"O, please don't touch me. It is too warm, and you muss my dress," I -have heard her say more than once when he came in and tried to put his -arm about her or take her in his lap. - -Indeed, her dress seems to be uppermost in her mind, and I have known -her to try on half a dozen different ones before she could decide in -which she looked the best. No matter what Guy is doing, or how deeply he -is absorbed in his studies, she makes him stop and inspect her from all -points, and give his opinion, and Guy submits in a way perfectly -wonderful to me who never dared to disturb him when shut up with his -books. - -Another thing, too, he submits to which astonishes me more than anything -else. It used to annoy him terribly to wait for anything or anybody. -_He_ was always ready, and expected others to be, but Daisy is just the -reverse. Such dawdling habits I never saw in any person. With Zillah to -help her dress she is never ready for breakfast, never ready for dinner, -never ready for church, never ready for anything, and that, in a -household accustomed to order and regularity, does put things back so, -and make so much trouble. - -"Don't wait breakfast for me, please," she says, when she has been -called for the third or fourth time, and if she can get us to sit down -without her she seems to think it all right, and that she can be as long -as she likes. - -I wonder that it never occurs to her that to keep the breakfast table -round, as we must, makes the girls cross and upsets the kitchen -generally. I hinted as much to her once when the table stood till ten -o'clock, and she only opened her great blue eyes wonderingly, and said -mamma had spoiled her she guessed, for it did not use to matter at home -when she was ready, but she would try and do better. She bade Zillah -call her at _five_ the next morning, and Zillah called her, and then she -was a half hour late. Guy doesn't like that, and he looked daggers on -the night of the reception, when the guests began to arrive before she -was dressed! And she commenced her toilet too, at three o'clock! But she -was wondrously beautiful in her bridal robes, and took all hearts by -storm. She is perfectly at home in society, and knows just what to do -and say so long as the conversation keeps in the fashionable round of -chit-chat, but when it drifts into deeper channels she is silent at -once, or only answers in monosyllables. I believe she is a good French -scholar, and she plays and sings tolerably well, and reads the novels as -they come out, but of books and literature, in general, she is wholly -ignorant, and if Guy thought to find in her any sympathy with his -favorite studies and authors he is terribly mistaken. - -And yet, as I write all this, my conscience gives me sundry pricks as if -I were wronging her, for in spite of her faults I like her ever so much, -and like to watch her flitting through the house and grounds like the -little fairy she is, and I hope the marriage may turn out well, and that -she will improve with age, and make Guy very happy. - - - - -CHAPTER II.--EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL. - - - September 20th, 18--. - -Three months married. Three months with Daisy all to myself, and yet not -exactly to myself either, for of her own accord she does not often come -where I am, unless it is just as I have shut myself up in my room, -thinking to have a quiet hour with my books. Then she generally appears, -and wants me to ride with her, or play croquet or see which dress is -most becoming, and I always submit and obey her as if I were the child -instead of herself. - -She _is_ young, and I almost wonder her parents allowed her to marry. -Fan hints that they were mercenary, but if they were they concealed the -fact wonderfully well, and made me think it a great sacrifice on their -part to give me Daisy. And so it was; such a lovely little darling, and -so beautiful. What a sensation she created at Saratoga! and still I was -glad to get away, for I did not fancy some things which were done there. -I did not like so many young men around her, nor her dancing those -abominable round dances which she seemed to enjoy so much. "Square -dances were poky," she said, even after I tried them with her for the -sake of keeping her out of that vile John Britton's arms. I have an -impression that I made a spectacle of myself, hopping about like a -magpie, but Daisy said, "I did beautifully," though she cried because I -put my foot on her lace flounce and tore it, and I noticed that after -that she always had some good reason why I should not dance again. "It -was too hard work for me; I was too big and clumsy," she said, "and -would tire easily. Cousin Tom was big and he never danced." - -By the way, I have some little curiosity with regard to that Cousin Tom -who wanted Daisy so badly, and who, because she refused him, went off to -South America. I trust he will stay there. Not that I am or could be -jealous of Daisy, but it is better for cousins like Tom to keep away. - -Daisy is very happy here, though she is not quite as enthusiastic over -the place as I supposed she would be, knowing how she lived at home. The -McDonalds are intensely respectable, so she says; but her father's -practice cannot bring him over two thousand a year, and the small brown -house they live in, with only a grass-plot in the rear and at the side, -is not to be compared with Elmwood, which is a fine old place, every one -admits. It has come out gradually that she thought the house was brick -and had a tower and billiard-room, and that we kept a great many -servants, and had a fish-pond on the premises, and velvet carpets on -every floor. I would not let Fan know this for the world, as I want her -to like Daisy thoroughly. - -And she does like her, though this little pink and white pet of mine is -a new revelation to her, and puzzles her amazingly. She would have been -glad if I had married Julia Hamilton, of Boston; but those Boston girls -are too strong-minded and positive to suit me. Julia is nice, it is -true, and pretty, and highly educated, and Fan says she has brains and -would make a splendid wife. As Fan had never seen Daisy she did not, of -course, mean to hint that she had not brains, but I suspect even now she -would be better pleased if Julia were here, but I should not. Julia is -self-reliant; Daisy is not. Julia has opinions of her own and asserts -them, too; Daisy does not. Julia can sew and run a machine; Daisy -cannot. Julia gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night; Daisy -does neither. Nobody ever waits for Julia; everybody waits for Daisy. -Julia reads scientific works and dotes on metaphysics; Daisy does not -know the meaning of the word. In short, Julia is a strong, high-toned, -energetic, independent woman, while Daisy is--a little innocent, -confiding girl, whom I would rather have without brains than all the -Boston women like Julia with brains! - -And yet I sometimes wish she did care for books, and was more interested -in what interests me. I have tried reading aloud to her an hour every -evening, but she generally goes to sleep or steals up behind me to look -over my shoulder and see how near I am to the end of the chapter, and -when I reach it she says: "Excuse me, but I have just thought of -something I must tell Zillah about the dress I want to wear to-morrow. -I'll be back in a moment;" and off she goes and our reading is ended for -that time, for I notice she never returns. The dress is of more -importance than the book, and I find her at ten or eleven trying to -decide whether black or white or blue is most becoming to her. Poor -Daisy! I fear she had no proper training at home. Indeed, she told me -the other day that from her earliest recollection she had been taught -that the main object of her life was to marry young and to marry money. -Of course she did not mean anything, but I would rather she had not said -it, even though I know she refused a millionaire for me who can hardly -be called rich as riches are rated these days. If Dick Trevylian should -fail to meet his payment I should be very poor, and then what would -become of Daisy, to whom the luxuries which money buys are so necessary? - -[Here followed several other entries in the journal, consisting mostly -of rhapsodies on Daisy, and then came the following:] - - ---- - - December 15th, 18--. - -Dick _has_ failed to meet his payments, and that too after having -borrowed of me twenty thousand more! Is he a villain, and did he know -all the time that I was ruining myself? I cannot think so when I -remember the look on his face as he told me about it and swore to me -solemnly that up to the very last he fully expected relief from England, -where he thought he had a fortune. - -"If I live I will pay you sometime," he said; but that does not help me -now. I am a ruined man. Elmwood must be sold, and I must work like a dog -to earn my daily bread. For myself I would not mind it much, and Fan, -who, woman-like, saw it in the distance and warned me of it, behaves -nobly; but it falls hard on Daisy. - -Poor Daisy! She never said a word when I told her the exact truth, but -she went to bed and cried for one whole day. I am so glad I settled ten -thousand dollars on her when we were married. No one can touch that, and -I told her so; but she did not say a word or seem to know what I meant. -Talking of anything serious, or expressing her opinion, was never in her -line, and she has not of her own accord spoken with me on the subject, -and when I try to talk with her about our future she shudders and cries, -and says, "Please don't! I can't bear it! I want to go home to mother!" - -And so it is settled that while we are arranging matters she is to visit -her mother and perhaps not return till spring, when I hope to be in a -better condition financially than I am at present. - -One thing Daisy said, which hurt me cruelly, and that was: "If I must be -a poor man's wife I might as well have married Cousin Tom, who wanted me -so badly!" To do her justice, however, she added immediately: "But I -like you the best." - -I am glad she said that. It will be something to remember when she is -gone, or rather when I return without her, as I am going to Indianapolis -with her, and then back to the dreary business of seeing what I have -left and what I can do. I have an offer for the house, and shall sell it -at once; but where my home will be next, I do not know, neither would I -care so much if it were not for Daisy,--poor little Daisy!--who thought -she had married a rich man. The only tears I have shed over my lost -fortune were for her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy! - - - - -CHAPTER III.--EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - - Elmwood, September 20th, 18--. - -Daisy McDonald Thornton's journal,--presented by my husband, Mr. Guy -Thornton, who wishes me to write something in it every day; and who, -when I asked him what I should write, said: "Your thoughts, and -opinions, and experiences. It will be pleasant for you sometime to look -back upon your early married life and see what progress you have made -since then, and will help you to recall incidents you would otherwise -forget. A journal fixes things in your mind, and I know you will enjoy -it, especially as no one is to see it, and you can talk to it freely as -to a friend." - -That is what Guy said, and I wrote it right down to copy into the book -as a kind of preface or introduction. I am not much pleased with having -to keep a journal, and maybe I shall coax Zillah to keep it for me. I -don't care to _fix_ things in my mind. I don't like things _fixed_, -anyway. I'd rather they would lie round loose, as they surely would, if -I had not Zillah to pick them up. She is a treasure, and it is almost -worth being married to have a waiting-maid,--and that reminds me that I -may as well begin back at the time when I was not married, and did not -want to be either, if we had not been so poor, and obliged to make so -many shifts to keep up appearances and seem richer than we were. - -My maiden name was Margaret McDonald, and I am seventeen next New Year's -Day. My father is of Scotch descent, and a lawyer; and mother was a -Barnard, from New Orleans, and has some very good blood in her veins. I -am an only child, and very handsome,--so everybody says; and I should -know it if they did not say it, for can't I see myself in the glass? And -still I really do not care so much for my good looks except as they -serve to attain the end for which father says I was born. - -Almost the first thing I can remember is of his telling me that I must -marry young and marry rich, and I promised him I would, provided I could -stay at home with mother just the same after I was married. Another -thing I remember, which made a lasting impression, and that is the -beating father gave me for asking before some grand people staying at -our house, "Why we did not always have beefsteak and hot muffins for -breakfast, instead of baked potatoes and bread and butter?" - -I must learn to keep my mouth shut, he said, and not tell all I knew; -and I profited by the lesson, and that is one reason, I suppose, why I -so rarely say what I think or express an opinion either favorable or -otherwise. - -I do not believe I am deceitful, though all my life I have seen my -parents try to seem what they are not; that is, try to seem like rich -people, when sometimes father's practice brought him only a few hundreds -a year, and there was mother and myself and Tom to support. Tom is my -cousin,--Tom McDonald--who lived with us and fell in love with me, -though I never tried to make him. But I liked him ever so much, even if -he did use to tease me horridly, and put horn-bugs in my shoes, and -worms on my neck, and jack-o'lanterns in my room, and tip me off his -sled into the snow; for with all his teasing, he had a great, kind, -unselfish heart, and I shall never forget that look on his face when I -told him I could not be his wife. I did not like him as he liked me, and -I did not want to be married any way. I could not bear the thought of -being tied up to some man, and if I did marry it must be to somebody who -was rich. That was in Chicago, and the night before Tom started for -South America, where he was going to make his fortune, and he wanted me -to promise to wait for him, and said no one would ever love me as well -as he did. - -I could not promise, because, even if he had all the gold mines in Peru, -I did not care to spend my days with him,--to see him morning, noon and -night, and all the time. It is a good deal to ask of a woman, and I told -him so, and he cried so hard,--not loud, but in a pitiful kind of way, -which hurt me cruelly. I hear that sobbing sometimes now in my sleep, -and it's like the moan of the wind round that house on the prairie where -Tom's mother died. Poor Tom! I gave him a lock of my hair and let him -kiss me twice, and then he went away, and after that old Judge Burton -offered himself and his million to me; but I could not endure his bald -head a week, I should hate him awfully and I told him no; and when -father seemed sorry and said I missed it, I told him I would not sell -myself for gold alone,--I'd run away first and go after Tom, who was -young and just bearable. Then Guy Thornton came, and--and--well, he took -me by storm, and I liked him better than any one I had ever seen, though -I would rather have him for my friend,--my beau, whom I could order -around and get rid of when I pleased, but I married him. Everybody said -he was rich, and father was satisfied and gave his consent, and bought -me a most elaborate trousseau. I wondered then where the money came -from. Now, I know that _Tom_ sent it. He has been very successful with -his mine, and in a letter to father sent me a check for fifteen hundred -dollars. Father would not tell me that, but mother did, and I felt -worse, I think, than when I heard the sobbing. Poor Tom! I never wear -one of the dresses now without thinking who paid for it and wrote in his -letter, "I am working like an ox for Daisy." Poor Tom! - - ---- - - October 1st, 18--. - -I rather like writing in my journal after all, for here I can say what I -think, and I guess I shall not let Zillah make the entries. Where did I -leave off? Oh, about poor Tom. - -I have had a letter from him. He had just heard of my marriage, and only -said, "God bless you, my darling little Daisy, and may you be very -happy." - -I burned the letter up and cried myself into a headache. I wish people -would not love me so much. I do not deserve it, for I know I am not what -they think me to be. There's Guy, my husband, more to be pitied than -Tom, because, you see, he has got me; and privately, between you and me, -old journal, I am not worth the getting, and I know it perhaps better -than any one else. I do not think I am really mean or bad, but there -certainly is in my make-up something different from other women. I like -Guy and believe him to be the best man in the world, and I would rather -he kissed me than Tom, but do not want any body to kiss me, especially a -man, and Guy is so affectionate, and his great hands are so hot, and -muss my fluted dresses so terribly. - -I guess I don't like to be married anyway. If one only could have the -house, and the money, and the nice things without the husband! That's -wicked, of course, when Guy is so kind and loves me so much. I wish he -didn't, but I would not for the world let him know how I feel. I did -tell him that I was not the wife he ought to have, but he would not -believe me, and father was anxious, and so I married him, meaning to do -the best I could. It was splendid at Saratoga, only Guy danced so -ridiculously and would not let me waltz with those young men. As if I -cared a straw for them or any body besides Guy and Tom! - -It is very pleasant here at Elmwood, but the house is not as grand as I -supposed, and there are not as many servants, and the family carriage is -awful pokey. Guy is to give me a pretty little phaeton on my birthday. - -I like Miss Frances very much, only she is such a raging housekeeper, -and keeps me all the while on the alert. I don't believe in these raging -housekeepers who act as if they wanted to make the bed before you are -up, and eat breakfast before it is ready. I don't like to get up in the -morning any way, and I don't like to hurry, and I am always behind, and -keeping somebody waiting, and that disturbs the people here very much. -Miss Frances seems really cross sometimes, and even Guy looks sober and -disturbed when he has waited for me half an hour or more. I guess I must -try and do better, for both Guy and Miss Frances are as kind as they can -be, but then I am not one bit like them, and have never been accustomed -to anything like order and regularity. At home things came round any -time, and I came with them, and that suited me better than being -married, only now I have a kind of settled feeling, and am Mrs. Guy -Thornton, and Guy is good looking, and highly esteemed, and very -learned, and I can see that the young ladies in the neighborhood envy me -for being his wife. I wonder who is that Julia Hamilton, Miss Frances -talks about so much, and why Guy did not marry her instead of me. She is -very learned, and gets up in the morning and flies round and is always -ready, and reads scientific articles in the _Westminster Review_, and -teaches in Sunday-school, and thinks it wicked to waltz, and likes to -discuss all the mixed-up horrid questions of the day,--religion and -politics and science and everything. I asked Guy once why he did not -marry her instead of a little goose like me, and he said he liked the -little goose the best, and then kissed me, and crumpled my white dress -all up. Poor Guy! I wish I did love him as well as he does me, but it's -not in me to love any body very much. - - ---- - - December 20th, 18--. - -A horrible thing has happened, and I have married a poor man after all! -Guy signed for somebody and had to pay, and Elmwood must be sold, and we -are to move into a stuffy little house, without Zillah, and with but one -girl, and I shall have to take care of my own room as I did at home, and -make my own bed and pick up my things and shall never be ready for -dinner. It is too dreadful to think about, and I was sick for a week -after Guy told me of it. I might as well have married Tom, only I like -Guy the best. He looks so sorry and sad that I sometimes forget myself -to pity him. I am going home to mother for a long, long time,--all -winter may be,--and I shall enjoy it so much. Guy says I have ten -thousand dollars of my own, and the interest on that will buy my -dresses, I guess, and get something for Miss Frances, too. She is a -noble woman, and tries to bear up so bravely. She says they will keep -the furniture of my blue room for me, if I want it; and I do, and I mean -to have Guy send it to Indianapolis, if he will. Oh, mother, I am so -glad I am coming back, where I can do exactly as I like,--eat my -breakfast on the washstand if I choose, and sit up all night long. I -almost wish,--no, I don't, either. I like Guy ever so much. It's being -tied up that I don't like. - - - - -CHAPTER IV.--AUTHOR'S STORY. - - -Guy Thornton was not a fool, and Daisy was not a fool, though they have -thus far appeared to great disadvantage. Beth had made a mistake; Guy in -marrying a child whose mind was unformed; and Daisy in marrying at all, -when her whole nature was in revolt against matrimony. But the mistake -was made, and Guy had failed and Daisy was going home, and the New -Year's morning when she was to have received Guy's gift of the phaeton -and ponies, found her at the little cottage in Indianapolis, where she -at once resumed all the old indolent habits of her girlhood, and was -happier than she had been since leaving home as a bride. - -On Mr. McDonald, the news of his son-in-law's failure fell like a -thunderbolt and affected him more than it did Daisy. Shrewd, ambitious -and scheming, he had for years planned for his daughter a moneyed -marriage, and now she was returned upon his hands for an indefinite -time, with her naturally luxurious tastes intensified by recent -indulgence, and her husband a ruined man. It was not a pleasant picture -to contemplate, and Mr. McDonald's face was cloudy and thoughtful for -many days, until a letter from Tom turned his thoughts into a new -channel and sent him with fresh avidity to certain points of law with -which he had of late years been familiar. If there was one part of his -profession in which he excelled more than another it was in the divorce -cases which had made Indiana so notorious. Squire McDonald, as he was -called, was well known to that class of people who, utterly ignoring -God's command, seek to free themselves from the bonds which once were so -pleasant to wear, and as he sat alone in his office with Tom's letter in -his hand, and read how rapidly that young man was getting rich, there -came into his mind a plan, the very thought of which would have made Guy -Thornton shudder with horror and disgust. - -Daisy had not been altogether satisfied with her brief married life, and -it would be very easy to make her more dissatisfied, especially as the -home to which she would return must necessarily be very different from -Elmwood. Tom was destined to be a millionaire. There was no doubt of -that, and he could be moulded and managed as Mr. McDonald had never been -able to mould or manage Guy. But everything pertaining to Tom must be -kept carefully out of sight, for the man knew his daughter would never -lend herself to such a diabolical scheme as that which he was revolving, -and which he at once put in progress, managing so adroitly that before -Daisy was at all aware of what she was doing, she found herself the -heroine of a divorce suit, founded really upon nothing but a general -dissatisfaction with married life, and a wish to be free from it. -Something there was about incompatibility of temperament and -uncongeniality and all that kind of thing which wicked men and women -parade before the world when weary of the tie which God has said shall -not be torn asunder. - -It is not our intention to follow the suit through any of its details, -and we shall only say that it progressed rapidly, while poor -unsuspicious Guy was working hard to retrieve in some way his lost -fortune, and to fit up a pleasant home for the childish wife who was -drifting away from him. He had missed her so much at first, even while -he felt it a relief to have her gone when his business matters needed -all his time and thought. It was some comfort to write to her, but not -much to receive her letters, for Daisy did not excel in epistolary -composition, and after a few weeks her letters were short and far apart, -and, as Guy thought, constrained and studied in their tone, and when, -after she had been absent from him for three months or more his longing -to see her was so great that he decided upon a visit of a few days to -the West, and apprized her of his intention, asking if she would be glad -to see him, he received in reply a telegram from Mr. McDonald telling -him to defer his journey as Daisy was visiting some friends and would be -absent for an indefinite length of time. There was but one more letter -from her, and that was dated at Vincennes, and merely said that she was -well, and Guy must not feel anxious about her or take the trouble to -come to see her, as she knew how valuable his time must be, and would -far rather he should devote himself to his business than bother about -her. The letter was signed, "Hastily, Daisy," and Guy read it over many -times with a pang in his heart he could not define. - -But he had no suspicion of the terrible blow in store for him, and went -on planning for her comfort just the same; and when at last Elmwood was -sold and he could no longer stay there, he hired a more expensive house -than he could afford, because he thought Daisy would like it better, and -then, with his sister Frances, set himself to the pleasant task of -fitting it up for Daisy. There was a blue room with a bay window just as -there had been in Elmwood, only it was not so pretentious and large. But -it was very pleasant, and had a door opening out upon what Guy meant -should be a flower garden in the summer, and though he missed his little -wife sadly, and longed so much at times for a sight of her beautiful -face and the sound of her sweet voice, he put all thought of himself -aside and said he would not bring her back until the May flowers were in -blossom and the young grass bright and green by the blue room door. - -"She will have a better impression of her new home then," he said to his -sister, "and I want her to be happy here and not feel the change too -keenly." - -Julia Hamilton chanced to be in town staying at the Towers, and as she -was very intimate with Miss Thornton the two were a great deal together, -and it thus came about that Julia was often at the brown cottage and -helped to settle the blue room for Daisy. - -"If it were only you who was to occupy it," Frances said to her one -morning when they had been reading together for an hour or more in the -room they both thought so pretty. "I like Daisy, but somehow she seems -so far from me. Why, there's not a sentiment in common between us." - -Then, as if sorry for having said so much, she spoke of Daisy's -marvelous beauty and winning ways, and hoped Julia would know and love -her ere long, and possibly do her good. - -It so happened that Guy was sometimes present at these readings and -enjoyed them so much that there insensibly crept into his heart a wish -that Daisy was more like the Boston girl whom he had mentally termed -strong-minded and stiff. - -"And in time, perhaps, she maybe," he thought. "I mean to have Julia -here a great deal next summer, and with two such women for companions as -Julia and Fan, Daisy cannot help but improve." - -And so at last when the house was settled and the early spring flowers -were in bloom Guy started westward for his wife. He had not seen her now -for months, and it was more than two weeks since he had heard from her, -and his heart beat high with joyful anticipation as he thought just how -she would look when she came to him, shyly and coyly, as she always did, -with that droop in her eye-lids and that pink flush in her cheeks. He -would chide her a little at first, he said, for having been so poor a -correspondent, especially of late, and after that he would love her so -much, and shield her so tenderly from every want or care that she should -never feel the difference in his fortune. - -Poor Guy,--he little dreamed what was in store for him just inside the -door where he stood ringing one morning in May, and which, when at last -it was opened, shut in a very different man from the one who who went -through it three hours later, benumbed and half-crazed with bewilderment -and surprise. - - - - -CHAPTER V.--THE DIVORCE. - - -He had expected to meet Daisy in the hall, but she was not in sight, and -her mother, who appeared in response to the card he sent up, seemed -confused and unnatural to such a degree that Guy asked in some alarm if -anything had happened, and where Daisy was. - -Nothing had happened,--that is,--well, nothing was the matter with -Daisy, Mrs. McDonald said, only she was nervous and not feeling quite -well that morning, and thought she better not come down. They were not -expecting him so soon, she continued, and she regretted exceedingly that -her husband was not there, but she had sent for him, and hoped he would -come immediately. Had Mr. Thornton been to breakfast? - -He had been to breakfast, and he did not understand at all what she -meant; if Daisy could not come to him, he must go to her, he said, and -he started for the door, when Mrs. McDonald sprang forward, and laying -her hand on his arm, held him back, saying: - -"Wait, Mr. Thornton: wait till husband comes--to tell you----" - -"Tell me what!" Guy demanded, feeling sure now that something had -befallen Daisy. - -"Tell you--that--that,--Daisy is,--that he has,--that,--oh, believe me, -it was not my wish at all, and I don't know now why it was done," Mrs. -McDonald said, still trying to detain Guy and keep him in the room. - -But her efforts were vain, for shaking off her grasp, Guy opened the -hall door, and with a cry of joy caught Daisy herself in his arms. - -In a state of fearful excitement and very curious to know what was -passing between her mother and Guy, she had stolen down stairs to -listen, and had reached the door just as Guy opened it so suddenly. - -"Daisy, darling, I feared you were sick," he cried, nearly smothering -her with his caresses. - -But Daisy writhed herself away from him, and putting up her hands to -keep him off, cried out: - -"Oh, Guy, Guy, you can't,--you mustn't. You must never kiss me again or -love me any more, because I am,--I am not,----Oh, Guy, I wish you had -never seen me; I am so sorry, too. I did like you. I,--I,--Guy,--Guy,--I -am not your wife any more I Father has got a divorce!" - -She whispered the last words, and then, affrighted at the expression of -Guy's face, fled half way up the stairs, where she stood looking down -upon him, while, with a face as white as ashes, he, too, stood gazing at -her and trying to frame the words which should ask her what she meant. -He did not believe her literally; the idea was too preposterous, but he -felt that some thing horrible had come between him and Daisy,--that in -some way she was as much lost to him as if he had found her coffined for -the grave, and the suddenness of the blow took from him for a moment his -powers of speech, and he still stood looking at her when the street door -opened, and a new actor appeared upon the scene in the person of Mr. -McDonald, who had hastened home in obedience to the message from his -wife. - -It was a principle of Mr. McDonald never to lose his presence of mind or -his temper, or the smooth, low tone of voice he had cultivated years ago -and practiced with so good effect. - -And now, though he understood the state of matters at once and knew that -Guy had heard the worst, he did not seem ruffled in the slightest -degree, and his voice was just as kind and sweet as ever as he bade Guy -good-morning, and advanced to take his hand. But Guy would not take it. -He had always disliked and distrusted Mr. McDonald, and he felt -intuitively that whatever harm had befallen him had come through the -oily-tongued man who stood smilingly before him. With a gesture of -disgust he turned away from the offered hand, and in a voice husky with -suppressed excitement, asked: - -"What does all this mean, that when, after a separation of months, I -come for my wife, I am told that she is not my wife,--that there has -been a--a divorce?" - -Guy had brought himself to name the horrid thing, and the very sound of -the word served to make it more real and clear to his mind, and there -were great drops of sweat, upon his forehead and about his mouth as he -asked what it meant. - -"Oh, Guy, don't feel so badly. Tell him, father, I did not do it," Daisy -cried, as she stood leaning over the stair-rail looking down at the -wretched man. - -"Daisy, go to your room. You should not have seen him at all," Mr. -McDonald said, with more sternness of manner than was usual for him. - -Then, turning to Guy, he continued: - -"Come in here, Mr. Thornton, where we can be alone while I explain to -you what seems so mysterious now." - -They went together into the little parlor, and for half an hour or more -the sound of their voices was distinctly heard as Mr. McDonald tried to -explain what there really was no explanation or excuse for. Daisy was -not contented at Elmwood, and though she complained of nothing she was -not happy as a married woman, and was glad to be free again. That was -all, and Guy understood at last that Daisy was his no longer; that the -law which was a disgrace to the State in which it existed had divorced -him from his wife without his knowledge or consent, and for no other -reason than incompatibility of temperament, and a desire on Daisy's part -to be free from the marriage tie. Not a word had been said of Guy's -altered fortunes, but he felt that his comparative poverty was really -the cause of this great wrong, and for a few moments resentment and -indignation prevailed over every other feeling; then, when he remembered -the little blue-eyed, innocent-faced girl whom he had loved so much and -thought so good and true, he laid his head upon the sofa-arm and groaned -bitterly, while the man who had ruined him sat coolly by, citing to him -many similar cases where divorces had been procured without the -knowledge of the absent party. It was a common,--a very common thing, he -said, and reflected no disgrace where there was no criminal charge. -Daisy was too young and childish anyway, and ought not to have been -married for several years, and it was really quite as much a favor to -Guy as a wrong. He was free again,--free to marry if he liked,--he had -taken care to see to that, so---- - -"Stop!" Guy thundered out, rousing himself from his crouching attitude -upon the sofa. "There is a point beyond which you shall not go. Be -satisfied with taking Daisy from me, and do not insult me with talk of a -second marriage. Had I found Daisy dead it would have hurt me less than -this fearful wrong you have done. I say _you_, for I charge it all to -_you_. Daisy could have had no part in it, and I ask to see her and hear -from her own lips that she accepts the position in which you and your -diabolical laws have placed her before I am willing to give her up. Call -her, will you?" - -"No, Mr. Thornton," Mr. McDonald replied. "To see Daisy would be -useless, and only excite you more than you are excited now. You cannot -see her." - -"Yes he will, father. If Guy wants to see me, he shall." - -It was Daisy herself who spoke, and who a second time had been acting -the part of listener. Going up to Guy she knelt down beside him, and -laying her arms across his lap, said to him. - -"What is it, Guy what is it you wish to say to me?" - -The sight of her before him in all her girlish beauty, with that soft, -sweet expression on the face raised so timidly to his, unmanned Guy -entirely, and clasping her in his arms he wept passionately for a -moment, while he tried to say: - -"Oh, Daisy, my darling, tell me it is a horrid dream,--tell me you are -still my wife, and go with me to the home I have tried to make so -pleasant for your sake. It is not like Elmwood, but I will sometime have -one handsomer even than that, and I'll work so hard for you. Oh, Daisy, -tell me you are sorry for the part you had in this fearful business, if -indeed you had a part, and I'll take you back so gladly. Will you, -Daisy; will you be my wife once more? I shall never ask you again. This -is your last chance with me. Reflect before you throw it away." - -Guy's mood was changing a little, because of something he saw in Daisy's -face,--a drawing back from him when he spoke of marriage. - -"Daisy must not go back with you; I shall not suffer that," Mr. McDonald -said, while Daisy, still keeping her arms around Guy's neck, where she -had put them when he drew her to him, replied: - -"Oh, Guy! I can't go with you; but I shall like you always, and I'm -sorry for you. I never wanted to be married; but if I must, I'd better -have married _Tom_, or that old Chicago man; they would not have felt so -badly, and I'd rather hurt them than you." - -The utter childishness of the remark roused Guy, and, with a gesture of -impatience, he put her from him, and rising to his feet, said angrily: - -"This, then, is your decision, and I accept it; but, Daisy, if you have -in you a spark of true womanhood, you will some time be sorry for this -day's work; while _you_!" and he turned fiercely upon Mr. -McDonald,--"words cannot express the contempt I feel for you; and know, -too, that I understand you fully, and am certain that were I the rich -man I was when you gave your daughter to me, you would not have taken -her away. But I will waste no more words upon you. You are a _villain_! -and Daisy is"----His white lips quivered a little as he hesitated a -moment, and then added: "Daisy _was_ my wife." - -Then, without another word, he left the house, and never turned to see -the white, frightened face which looked after him so wistfully until a -turn in the street hid him from view. - - - - -CHAPTER VI.--EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. - - - _Extract 1st.--Mr. McDonald's._ - - May ----. - -Well, that matter is over, and I can't say I am sorry, for the -expression in that Thornton's eye I do not care to meet a second time. -There was mischief in it, and it made one think of six-shooters and cold -lead. I never quite indorsed the man,--first, because he was not as rich -as I would like Daisy's husband to be; and second, because even had he -been a millionaire it would have done _me_ no good. That he did not -marry Daisy's family, he made me fully understand; and for any good his -money did me, I was as poor after the marriage as before. Then he must -needs lose all he had in that foolish way; and when I found that Daisy -was not exceedingly in love with married life, it was natural that, as -her father, I should take advantage of the laws of the State in which I -live, especially as _Tom_ is growing rich so fast. On the whole, I have -done a good thing. Daisy is free, with ten thousand dollars which -Thornton settled on her; for, of course, I shall prevent her giving that -back as she is determined to do, saying it is not hers, and she will not -keep it. It is hers and she shall keep it, and Tom will be a millionaire -if that gold mine proves as great a success as it seems likely to do; -and I can manage Tom, only I am sorry for Thornton who evidently was in -love with Daisy; and, as I said before, I've done a nice thing after -all. - - ---- - - _Extract 2nd.--Miss Thornton's Diary._ - - June 30th, 18--. - -To-day, for the first time, we have hopes that my brother will live; -but, oh! how near he has been to the gates of death since that night -when he came back to us from the West, with a fearful look on his face, -and a cruel wound in his heart. I say us, for Julia Hamilton has been -with me all through the dreadful days and nights when I watched to see -Guy's life go out and know I was left alone. She was with me when I was -getting ready for Daisy, and waiting for Guy to bring her home,--not to -Elmwood,--that dear old place is sold, and strangers walk the rooms I -love so well,--but here to the brown cottage on the hill, which, if I -had never had Elmwood, would seem so pleasant to me. - -And it is pleasant here, especially in Daisy's room, which we shall -never use, for the door is shut and bolted, and it seems each time I -pass it as if a dead body were lying hidden there. Had Guy died I would -have laid him there and sent for that false creature to come and see her -work. I promised her so much, but not from any love, for my heart was -full of bitterness that night when I turned her from the door out into -the rain. I shall never tell Guy that, lest he should soften toward her, -and I would not have her here again for all the world contains. And yet -I did like her, and was looking forward to her return with a good deal -of pleasure. Julia had spoken many a kind word for her, had pleaded her -extreme youth as an excuse for her faults, and had led me to hope for -better things when time had matured her somewhat and she had become -accustomed to our new mode of life. - -And so I waited for her and Guy, and wondered I did not hear from them, -and felt so glad and happy when I received the telegram, "Shall be home -to-night." It was a bright day in May, but the evening set in cool, with -a feeling of rain in the air, and I had a fire kindled in the parlor and -in Daisy's room, for I remembered how she used to crouch on the rug -before the grate and watch the blaze floating up the chimney with all -the eagerness of a child. Then, although it hurt me sorely, I went to -Simpson, who bought our carriage, and asked that it might be sent to the -station so that Daisy should not feel the difference at once. And Jerry, -our old coachman, went with it, and waited there just as Julia and I -waited at home, for Julia had promised to stay a few days on purpose to -see Daisy. - -The train was late that night, an hour behind time, and the spring rain -was falling outside and the gas was lighted within when I heard the -sound of wheels stopping at the door and went to meet my brother. But -only my brother. There was no Daisy with him. He came in alone, with -such an awful look on his white face as made me cry out with alarm. - -"What is it, Guy, and where is Daisy?" I asked, as he staggered against -the bannister, where he leaned heavily. - -He did not answer my question, but said, "Take me to my room," in a -voice I would never have known for Guy's. I took him to his room and -made him lie down, and brought him a glass of wine, and then, when he -was strong enough to tell it, listened to the shameful story, and felt -that henceforth and forever I must and would hate the woman who had -wounded my Guy so cruelly. - -And still there is some good in her,--some sense of right and justice, -as was shown by what she did when Guy was at the worst of the terrible -fever which followed his coming home. I watched him constantly. I would -not even let Julia Hamilton share my vigils, and one night when I was -worn out with fatigue and anxiety I fell asleep upon the lounge, where I -threw myself for a moment. How long I slept I never knew, but it must -have been an hour or more, for the last thing I remember was hearing the -whistle of the Western train and the distant sound of thunder as if a -storm were coming, and when I awoke the rain was falling heavily and the -clock was striking twelve, which was an hour after the train was due. It -was very quiet in the room, and darker than usual, for some one had -shaded the lamp from my eyes as well as Guy's, so that at first I did -not see distinctly, but I had an impression that there was a figure -sitting by Guy near the bed. Julia most likely, I thought, and I called -her by name, feeling my blood curdle in my veins and my heart stand -still with something like fear when a voice I knew so well and never -expected to hear again, answered softly: - -"It is not Julia. _It's I._" - -There was no faltering in her voice, no sound of apology. She spoke like -one who had a right to be there, and this it was which so enraged me and -made me lose my self-command. Starting to my feet, I confronted her as -she sat in my chair, by Guy's bedside, with those queer blue eyes of -hers fixed so questioningly upon me as if she wondered at my -impertinence. - -"_Miss McDonald_," I said, laying great stress on the name, "why are you -here, and how did you dare come?" - -"I _was_ almost afraid, it was so dark when I left the train, and it -kept thundering so," she replied, mistaking my meaning altogether, "but -there was no conveyance at the station and so I came on alone. I never -knew Guy was sick. Why did you not write and tell me? Is he very bad?" - -Her perfect composure and utter ignoring of the past provoked me beyond -endurance, and without stopping to think what I was doing, I seized her -arm, and drawing her into an adjoining room, said, in a suppressed -whisper of rage: - -"Very bad,--I should think so. We have feared and still fear he will -die, and it's all your work, the result of your wickedness, and yet you -presume to come here into his very room,--you who are no wife of his, -and no woman either, to do what you have done." - -What more I said I do not remember. I only know Daisy put her hands to -her head in a scared, helpless way, and said: - -"I do not quite understand it all, or what you wish me to do." - -"Do?" I replied. "I want you to leave this house immediately,--_now_, -before Guy can possibly be harmed by your presence. Go back to the depot -and take the next train home. It is due in an hour. You have time to -reach it." - -"But it is so dark, and it rains and thunders so," she said, with a -shudder, as a heavy peal shook the house and the rain beat against the -windows. - -I think I must have been crazy with mad excitement, and her answer made -me worse. - -"You were not afraid to come here," I said. "You can go from here as -well. Thunder will not hurt such as you." - -Even then she did not move, but crouched in a corner of the room -farthest from me, reminding me of my kitten when I try to drive it from -a place where it has been permitted to play. As that will not understand -my _'scats_ and gestures so she did not seem to comprehend my meaning. -But I made her at last, and with a very white face and a strange look in -her great staring blue eyes, she said: - -"Fanny," (she always called me Miss Frances before). "Fanny, do you -really mean me to go back in the dark, and the rain and the thunder? -Then I will, but I must tell you first what I came for, and you will -tell Guy. He gave me ten thousand dollars when we first were married; -settled it on me, they called it, and father was one of the trustees, -and kept the paper for me till I was of age. So much I understand, but -not why I can't give it back to Guy, for father says I can't. I never -dreamed it was mine after the--the--the divorce." - -She spoke the word softly and hesitatingly, while a faint flush showed -on her otherwise white face. - -"If I am not Guy's wife, as they say, then I have no right to his money, -and I told father so, and said I'd give it back, and he said I couldn't, -and I said I could and would, and I wrote to Guy about it, and told him -I was not so mean, and father kept the letter, and I did not know what I -should do next till I was invited to visit Aunt Merriman in Detroit. -Then I took the paper,--the _settlement_, you know, from the box where -father kept it, and put it in my pocket; here it is; see--" and she drew -out a document and held it toward me while she continued: "I started for -Detroit under the care of a friend who stopped a few miles the other -side, so you see I was free to come here if I liked, and I did so, for I -wanted to see Guy and give him the paper, and tell him I'd never take a -cent of his money. I am sorry he is sick. I did not think he'd care so -much, and I don't know what to do with the paper unless I tear it up. I -believe I'd better; then surely it will be out of the way." - -And before I could speak or think she tore the document in two, and then -across again, and scattered the four pieces on the floor. - -"Tell Guy, please," she continued, "what I have done, and that I never -meant to take it, after--after--_that_,--you know,--and that I did not -care for money only as father taught me I must have it, and that I am -sorry he ever saw me, and I never really wanted to be married and can't -be his wife again till I do." - -She spoke as if Guy would take her back of course if she only signified -her wish to come, and this kept me angry, though I was beginning to -soften a little with this unexpected phase of her character, and I might -have suffered her to stay till morning if she had signified a wish to do -so, but she did not. - -"I suppose I must go now if I catch the train," she said, moving toward -the door. "Good-bye, Fanny. I am sorry I ever troubled you." - -She held her little white ungloved hand toward me and then I came to -myself, and hearing the wind and rain, and remembering the lonely road -to the station, I said to her: - -"Stay, Daisy, I cannot let you go alone. Miss Hamilton will watch with -Guy while I go with you." - -"And who will come back with you? It will be just as dark and rainy -then," she said; but she made no objection to my plan, and in less than -five minutes Julia, who always slept in her dressing-gown so as to be -ready for any emergency, was sitting by Guy, and I was out in the dark -night with Daisy and our watch-dog Leo, who, at sight of his old -playmate, had leaped upon her and nearly knocked her down in his joy. - -"Leo is glad to see me," Daisy said, patting the dumb creature's head, -and in her voice there was a rebuking tone, which I resented silently. - -I was not glad to see her, and I could not act a part, but I wrapped my -waterproof around her and adjusted the hood over her hair, and thought -how beautiful she was, even in that disfiguring garb, and then we went -on our way, the young creature clinging close to me as peal after peal -of thunder rolled over our heads, and gleams of lightning lit up the -inky sky. She did not speak to me, nor I to her, till the red light on -the track was in sight, and we knew the train was coming. Then she asked -timidly: "Do you think Guy will die?" - -"Heaven only knows," I said, checking a strong impulse to add: "If he -does, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you killed him." - -I am glad now that I did not say it. And I was glad then, when Daisy, -alarmed perhaps by something in the tone of my voice, repeated her -question: - -"But do _you_ think he will die? If I thought he would I should wish to -die too. I like him, Miss Frances, better than any one I ever saw; like -him now as well as I ever did, but I do not want to be his wife, nor -anybody's wife, and that is just the truth. I am sorry he ever saw me -and loved me so well. Tell him that, Fanny." - -It was Fanny again, and she grasped my hand nervously, for the train was -upon us. - -"Promise me solemnly that if you think he is surely going to die you -will let me know in time to see him once more. Promise,--quick,--and -kiss me as a pledge." - -The train had stopped. There was not a moment to lose, and I promised, -and kissed the red lips in the darkness, and felt a remorseful pang when -I saw the little figure go alone into the car which bore her swiftly -away, while I turned my steps homeward with only Leo for my companion. - -I had to tell Julia about it, and I gathered up the four scraps of paper -from the floor where Daisy had thrown them, and joining them together -saw they really were the marriage settlement, and kept them for Guy, -should he ever be able to hear about it and know what it meant. There -was a telegram for me, the next evening, dated at Detroit, and bearing -simply the words, "Arrived safely," and that was all I heard of Daisy. -No one in town knew of her having been here but Julia and myself, and it -was better that they should not, for Guy's life hung on a thread, and -for many days and nights I trembled lest that promise, sealed by a kiss, -would have to be redeemed. - -That was three weeks ago, and Guy is better now and knows us all, and -to-day, for the first time, I have a strong hope that I am not to be -left alone, and I thank Heaven for that hope, and feel as if I were at -peace with all the world, even with Daisy herself, from whom I have -heard nothing since that brief telegram. - - ---- - - August 1st, ----. - -The shadow of death has passed from our house, and I can almost say the -shadow of sickness too, for though Guy is still weak as a child and thin -as a ghost, he is decidedly on the gain, and to-day I drove him out for -the third time, and hoped from something he said that he was beginning -to feel some interest in the life so kindly given back to him. Still he -will never be just the same. The blow stunned him too completely for him -to recover quite his old happy manner, and there is a look of age in his -face which pains me to see. He knows Daisy has been here, and why. I had -to tell him all about it, and sooner too than I meant to, for almost his -first coherent question to me after his reason came back was: - -"Where is Daisy? I am sure I heard her voice. It could not have been a -dream. Is she here, or has she been here? Tell me the truth, Fanny." - -So I told him, and showed him the bits of paper, and held his head on my -bosom, while he cried like a child. How he loves her still, and how glad -he was to know that she was not as mercenary as it would at first seem. -Not that her tearing up that paper will make any difference about the -money. She cannot give it to him, he says, until she is of age, neither -does he wish it at all, and he would not take it from her; but he is -glad to see her disposition in the matter; glad to have me think better -of her than I did, and I am certain that he is expecting to hear from -her every day, and is disappointed that he does not. He did not reproach -me as I thought he would when I told him about turning her out in the -rain; he only said: - -"Poor Daisy, did she get very wet? She is so delicate, you know. I hope -it did not make her sick." - -Oh, the love a man will feel for a woman, let her be ever so unworthy. I -cannot comprehend it. And why should I? an old maid like me, who never -loved any one but Guy. - - ---- - - August 30th, ----. - -In a roundabout way we have heard that Mr. McDonald is going away with -his wife and daughter. When the facts of the divorce were known, they -brought him into such disgrace with the citizens of Indianapolis, who -were perfectly indignant, and showed that they were in every possible -way, that he thought best to leave for a time till the storm was over, -and so they will go to South America, where there is a cousin Tom, who -is growing rich very fast. I cannot help certain thoughts coming into my -mind, any more than I can help being glad that Daisy is going out of the -country. Guy never mentions her now, and is getting to look and act -quite like himself. If only he _could_ forget her, we might be very -happy again, as Heaven grant we may. - - - - -CHAPTER VII.--FIVE YEARS LATER. - - -"Married, this morning, at St. Paul's church, by the Rev. Dr. ----, -assisted by the Rector, Guy Thornton, Esq., of Cuylerville, to Miss -Julia Hamilton, of this city." - -Such was the notice which appeared in a daily Boston paper one lovely -morning in September five years after the last entry in Miss Thornton's -journal. Guy had reached the point at last, when he could put Daisy from -his heart and take another in her place. He had never seen her, or heard -directly from her since the night she brought him the marriage -settlement and tore it in pieces, thinking thus to give him the money -beyond a doubt. That this did not change the matter one whit he knew, -for she could not give him the ten thousand settled upon her until she -was of age. She _was_ of age now, and had been for a year or more, and -to say the truth he had expected to hear from her when she was -twenty-one. To himself he had reasoned on this wise: "Her father told -her that the tearing up that paper made no difference, that she was -powerless of herself to act until she was of age, so she will wait -quietly till then before making another effort." And Guy thought how he -would not take a penny from her, but would insist upon her keeping it. -Still he should respect her all the more for her sense of justice and -generosity, he thought, and when her twenty-first birthday came and -passed, and week after week went by, and brought no sign from Daisy, -there was a pang in his heart and a look of disappointment on his face -which did not pass away until October hung her gorgeous colors upon the -hills of Cuylerville, and Julia Hamilton came to the Brown Cottage to -spend a few weeks with his sister. - -From an independent, self-reliant, energetic girl of twenty-two, Julia -had ripened into a noble and dignified woman of twenty-seven, with a -repose of manner which seemed to rest and quiet one, and which told -insensibly on Guy, until at last he found himself dreading to have her -go, and wishing to keep her with him always. The visit was lengthened -into a month; and when in November he went with her to Boston, he had -asked her to take Daisy's place, and be his second wife. Very freely -they talked of the little golden-haired girl, and Julia told him what -she had heard through a mutual acquaintance who had been on the same -vessel with the McDonalds when they returned from South America. Cousin -Tom was with them, a rich man then, and a richer now, for his gold mine -and his railroad had made him almost a millionaire, and it was currently -reported and believed that Mr. McDonald meant him to marry his daughter. -They were abroad now, the McDonalds and Tom, and Daisy, it was said, was -even more beautiful than in her early girlhood, and that to her natural -loveliness was added great cultivation and refinement of manner. She had -had the best of teachers while in South America, and was now continuing -her studies abroad with a view to further improvement. All this Julia -Hamilton told Guy, and then bade him think again before deciding to join -his life with hers. - -And Guy did think again, and his thoughts went across the sea after the -beautiful Daisy, and he tried to picture to himself what she must be now -that education and culture had set their seal upon her. But always in -the picture there was a dark background, where cousin Tom stood sentinel -with his bags of gold, and so, with a half unconscious sigh for what -"might have been," Guy dug still deeper the grave where, years before, -he had buried his love for Daisy, and to make the burial sure this time, -so that there should be no future resurrection, he put over the grave a -head-stone, on which was written a new hope and a new love, both of -which centered in Julia Hamilton. - -And so they were engaged, and after that there was no wavering on his -part,--no looking back to a past, which seemed like a happy dream, from -which there had been a horrible awaking. - -He loved Julia at first quietly and sensibly, and loved her more and -more as the winter and spring went by, and brought the day when he stood -again at the altar, and for the second time took upon him the marriage -vow. It was a very quiet wedding, with only a few friends present, and -Miss Frances was the bridesmaid, in a gown of silver gray; but Julia's -face was bright with the certainty of a happiness long desired; and if -in Guy's heart there lingered the odor of other bridal flowers, withered -now and dead, and the memory of other marriage bells than those which -sent their music on the air that September morning, and if a pair of -sunny blue eyes seemed looking into his, he made no sign, and his face -wore an expression of perfect content as he took his second bride for -better or worse, just as he once had taken little Daisy. In Daisy's case -it had proved all for the worse, but now there was a suitableness in the -union which boded future happiness, and many a hearty wish for good was -sent after the newly-married pair, whose destination was New York. - -It was nearly dark when they reached the hotel, and quite dark before -dinner was over. Then Julia suddenly remembered that an old friend of -hers was boarding in the house, and suggested going to her room. - -"I'd send my card," she said, blushingly, "only she would not know me by -the new name, so if you do not mind my leaving you a moment, I'll go and -find her myself." - -Guy did not mind, and Julia went out and left him alone. Scarcely was -she gone when he called to mind a letter which had been forwarded to him -from Cuylerville, and which he had found awaiting him on his return -from, the church that morning. Not thinking it of much consequence, he -had thrust it in his pocket and in the excitement forgotten it till now. -He had dressed for dinner and worn his wedding-coat, and he took the -letter out and looked at it a moment, and wondered whom it was from, as -people often wait and wonder, when breaking the seal would settle the -matter so soon. It was post-marked in New York, and, felt heavy in his -hand, and he opened it at last, and found that the outer envelope -inclosed another one, on which his name and address were written in a -handwriting once so familiar to him, and the sight of which made him -start and breathe heavily for a moment as if the air had suddenly grown -thick and burdensome. - -It was Daisy's handwriting, which he had never thought to see again; for -after his engagement with Julia he had burned every vestige of a -correspondence it was sorrow now to remember. One by one, and with a -steady hand, he had dropped Daisy's letters into the fire and watched -them turning into ashes, and thought how like his love for her they were -when nothing remained of them but the thin gray tissue his breath could -blow away. The four scraps of the marriage settlement which Daisy had -brought him on that night of storm he kept, because they seemed to -embody something good and noble in the girl; but the letters she had -written him were gone past recall, and he had thought himself cut loose -from her forever,--when, lo! there had come to him an awakening to the -bitterness of the past in a letter from the once-loved wife, whose -delicate handwriting made him grow faint and sick for a moment, as he -held the letter in his hand and read: - - "_Guy Thornton, Esq._, - "Brown Cottage, - "Politeness of Mr. Wilkes. Cuylerville, Mass." - -Why had she written, and what had she to say to him? he wondered, and -for a moment he felt tempted to tear the letter up and never know what -it contained. - -Better, perhaps, had he done so,--better for him, and better for the -fond new wife whose happiness was so perfect, and whose trust in his -love was so strong. - -But he did not tear it up. He opened it, and another chapter will tell -us what he read. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.--DAISY'S LETTER. - - -It was dated at Rouen, France, and it ran as follows: - -"_Dear, Dear Guy_:--I am all alone here in Rouen, with no one near me -who speaks English, or knows a thing of Daisy Thornton, as she was, or -as she is now, for I am Daisy Thornton here. I have taken the old name -again and am an English governess in a wealthy French family; and this -is how it came about: I have left Berlin and the party there, and am -earning my own living, for three reasons, two of which concern cousin -Tom, and one of which has to do with you and that miserable settlement -which has troubled me so much. I thought when I brought it back and tore -it up that was the last of it, and felt so happy and relieved. Father -missed it, of course; and I told him the truth and that I could never -touch a penny of your money if I was not your wife. He did not say a -word, and I supposed it was all right, and never dreamed that I was -actually clothed and fed on the interest of that ten thousand dollars. -Father would not tell me, and you did not write. Why didn't you, Guy? I -expected a letter so long and went to the office so many times and cried -a little to myself, and said Guy has forgotten me. - -"After the divorce, which I know now was a most unjust and mean affair, -the people in Indianapolis treated us with so much coldness and neglect -that at last we went to South America,--father, mother and I,--went to -live with Tom. He wanted me for his wife before you did, but I could not -marry Tom. He is very rich now, and we lived with him, and then we all -came to Europe and have traveled everywhere, and I have had teachers in -everything, and people say I am a fine scholar, and praise me much; and, -Guy, I have tried to improve just to please _you_; believe me, Guy, just -to please _you_. Tom was as a brother,--a dear, good big bear of a -brother, whom I loved as such, but nothing more. Even were you dead, I -could not marry Tom after knowing you; and I told him so when in Berlin -he asked me for the sixth time to be his wife. I had to tell him -something hard to make him understand, and when I saw how what I said -hurt him cruelly and made him cry because he was such a great big, -awkward, dear old fellow, I put my arms around his neck and cried with -him, and tried to explain, and that made him ten times worse. Oh, if -people only would not love me so much it would save me a great deal of -sorrow. - -"You see, I tell you this because I want you to know exactly what I have -been doing these five years, and that I have never thought of marrying -Tom or anybody. I did not think I could. I felt that if I belonged to -anybody it was you, and I cannot have Tom, and father was very angry and -taunted me with living on Tom's money, which I did not know before, and -then he accidently let out about the marriage settlement, and that hurt -me worse than the other. - -"Oh, Guy, how can I give it up? Surely there must be a way now I am of -age. I was so humiliated about it, and after all that passed between -father and Tom and me, I could not stay in Berlin, and never be sure -whose money was paying for my bread, and when I heard that Madame -Lafarcade, a French lady, who had spent the winter in Berlin, was -wanting an English governess for her children, I went to her, and as the -result, am here at her beautiful country-seat, just out of the city, -earning my own living and feeling so proud to do it; only, Guy, there is -an ache in my heart, a heavy, throbbing pain which will not leave me day -or night, and this is how it came there. - -"Mother wrote that you were about to marry Miss Hamilton. Letters from -home brought her the news, which she thinks is true. Oh, Guy, it is not, -it cannot be true. You must not go quite away from me now, just as I am -coming back to you. For, Guy, I am--or rather, I have come, and a great -love, such as I never felt before, fills me full almost to bursting. I -always liked you, Guy; but when we were married I did not know what it -was to love,--to feel my pulses quicken as they do now just at thought -of you. If I had, how happy I could have made you, but I was a silly -little girl, and married life was distasteful to me, and I was willing -to be free, though always, way down in my heart, was something which -protested against it, and if you knew just how I was influenced and led -on insensibly to assent, you would not blame me so much. The word -_divorce_ had an ugly sound to me, and I did not like it, and I have -always felt as if bound to you just the same. It would not be right for -me to marry Tom, even if I wanted to, which I do not. I am yours, -Guy,--only yours, and all these years I have studied and improved for -your sake, without any fixed idea, perhaps, as to what I expected or -hoped. But when Tom spoke the last time it came to me suddenly what I -was keeping myself for, and, just as a great body of water, when freed -from its prison walls rolls rapidly down a green meadow, so did a mighty -love for you take possession of me and permeate my whole being, until -every nerve quivered with joy, and when Tom was gone I went away alone -and cried more for my new happiness, I am afraid, than for him, poor -fellow. And yet I pitied him, too, and as I could not stay in Berlin -after that I came away to earn money enough to take me back to you. For -I am coming, or I was before I heard that dreadful news which I cannot -believe. - -"Is it true, Guy? Write and tell me it is not, and that you love me -still and want me back, or, if it in part is true, and you are engaged -to Julia, show her this letter and ask her to give you up, even if it is -the very day before the wedding,--for you are mine, and, sometimes, when -the children are troublesome, and I am so tired and sorry and homesick, -I have such a longing for a sight of your dear face, and think if I -could only lay my aching head in your lap once more I should never know -pain or weariness again. - -"Try me, Guy. I will be so good and loving, and make you so happy, and -your sister, too,--I was a bother to her once. I'll be a comfort now. -Tell her so, please; tell her to bid me come. Say the word yourself, and -almost before you know it I'll be there. - -"Truly, lovingly, waitingly, your wife, - - "_Daisy_." - -"P. S.--To make sure of this letter's safety I shall send it to New York -by a friend, who will mail it to you. - - "Again, lovingly, _Daisy Thornton_." - - ---- - -This was Daisy's letter, which Guy read with such a pang in his heart as -he had never known before, even when he was smarting the worst from -wounded love and disappointed hopes. Then he had said to himself, "I can -never suffer again as I am suffering now," and now, alas, he felt how -little he had ever known of that pain which tears the heart and takes -the breath away. - -"God help her," he moaned,--his first thought, his first prayer for -Daisy, the girl who called herself his wife, when just across the hall -was the bride of a few hours,--another woman who bore his name and -called him her husband. - -With a face as pale as ashes, and hands which shook like palsied hands, -he read again that pathetic cry from her whom he now felt he had never -ceased to love; ay, whom he loved still, and whom, if he could, he would -have taken to his arms so gladly, and loved and cherished as the -priceless thing he had once thought her to be. The first moments of -agony which followed the reading of the letter were Daisy's wholly, and -in bitterness of soul the man she had cast off and thought to take again -cried out, as he stretched his arms toward an invisible form: "Too late, -darling; too late. But had it come two months, one month, or even one -week ago, I would,--I would, --have gone to you over land and sea, but -now,--another is in your place, another is my wife; Julia,--poor, -innocent Julia. God help me to keep my vow; God help me in my need." - -He was praying now; and Julia was the burden of his prayer. And as he -prayed there came into his heart an unutterable tenderness and pity for -her. He had thought he loved her an hour ago; he believed he loved her -now, or if he did not, he would be to her the kindest, most thoughtful -of husbands, and never let her know, by word or sign, of the terrible -pain he should always carry in his heart. "Darling Daisy, poor Julia," -he called the two women who were both so much to him. To the first his -love, to the other his tender care, for she was worthy of it. She was -noble, and good, and womanly; he said many times and tried to stop the -rapid heart-throbs and quiet himself down to meet her when she came back -to him with her frank, open face and smile, in which there was no shadow -of guile. She was coming now; he heard her voice in the hall speaking to -her friend, and thrusting the fatal letter in his pocket he rose to his -feet, and steadying himself upon the table, stood waiting for her, as, -flushed and eager, she came in. - -"Guy, Guy, what is it? Are you sick?" she asked, alarmed at the pallor -of his face and the strange expression of his eyes. - -He was glad she had thus construed his agitation, and he answered that -he was faint and a little sick. - -"It came on suddenly, while I was sitting here. It will pass off as -suddenly," he said, trying to smile, and holding out his hand, which she -took at once in hers. - -"Is it your heart, Guy? Do you think it is your heart?" she continued, -as she rubbed and caressed his cold, clammy hand. - -A shadow of pain or remorse flitted across Guy's face as he replied: - -"I think it is my heart, but I assure you there is no danger,--the worst -is over. I am a great deal better." - -And he was better with that fair girl beside him, her face glowing with -excitement, and her soft hands pressing his. Perfectly healthy herself, -she must have imparted some life and vigor to him, for he felt his pulse -grow steadier beneath her touch, and the blood flow more regularly -through his veins. If only he could forget that crumpled letter which -lay in his vest pocket, and seemed to burn into his flesh; forget that, -and the young girl watching for an answer and the one word "come," he -might be happy yet, for Julia was one whom any man could love and be -proud to call his wife. And Guy said to himself that he did love her, -though not as he once loved Daisy, or as he could love her again were he -free to do so, and because of that full love withheld, he made a mental -vow that his whole life should be given to Julia's happiness, so that -she might never know any care or sorrow from which he could shield her. - -"And Daisy?" something whispered in his ear. - -"I must and will forget her," he sternly answered, and the arm he had -thrown around Julia, who was sitting with him upon the sofa, tightened -its grasp until she winced and moved a little from him. - -He was very talkative that evening, and asked his wife many questions -about her friends and the shopping she wished to do, and the places they -were to visit; and Julia, who had hitherto regarded him as a quiet, -silent man, given to few words, wondered at the change, and watched the -bright red spots on his cheeks, and thought how she would manage to have -medical advice for that dreadful heart-disease, which had come like a -nightmare to haunt her bridal days. - -Next morning there came a Boston paper containing a notice of the -marriage, and this Guy sent to Daisy, with only the faint tracing of a -pencil to indicate the paragraph. - -"Better so than to write," he thought; though he longed to add the -words, "Forgive me, Daisy; your letter came too late." - -And so the paper was sent, and, after a week or two, Guy went back to -his home in Cuylerville, and the blue rooms which Julia had fitted up -for Daisy five years before became her own by right. And Fanny Thornton -welcomed her warmly to the house, and by many little acts of -thoughtfulness showed how glad she was to have her there. And Julia was -very happy save when she remembered the heart-disease which she was sure -Guy had, and for which he would not take advice. "There was nothing the -matter with his heart, unless it were too full of love," he told her -laughingly, and wondered to himself if in saying this he was guilty of a -lie, inasmuch as his words misled her so completely. - -After a time, however, there came a change, and thoughts of Daisy ceased -to disturb him as they once had done. No one ever mentioned her to him, -and since the receipt of her letter he had heard no tidings of her until -six months after his marriage, when there came to him the ten thousand -dollars, with all the interest which had accrued since the settlement -first was made. There was no word from Daisy herself, but a letter from -a lawyer in Berlin, who said all there was to say with regard to the -business, but did not tell where Miss McDonald, as he called her, was. - -Then Guy wrote Daisy a letter of thanks, to which there came no reply, -and as time went on the old wound began to heal, the grave to close -again; and when, at last, one year after his marriage, they brought him -a beautiful little baby girl and laid it in his arms, and then a few -moments later let him into the room where the pale mother lay, he -stooped over her, and kissing her fondly, said; - -"I never loved you half as well as I do now!" - -It was a pretty child, with dark blue eyes, and hair in which there was -a gleam of gold, and Guy, when asked by his wife what he would call her, -said; - -"Would you object to Margaret?" - -Julia knew what he meant, and like the true, noble woman she was, -offered no objection to Guy's choice, and herself first gave the pet -name of Daisy to her child, on whom Guy settled the ten thousand dollars -sent to him by the Daisy over the sea. - - - - -CHAPTER IX.--DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE. - - -Watching, waiting, hoping, saying to herself in the morning, "It will -come before night," and saying to herself at night, "It will be here -to-morrow morning." Such was Daisy's life, even before she had a right -to expect an answer to her letter. - -Of the nature of Guy's reply she had no doubt. He had loved her once, he -loved her still, and he would take her back of course. There was no -truth in that rumor of another marriage. Possibly her father, whom she -understood now better than she once did, had gotten the story up for the -sake of inducing her through pique to marry Tom; but if so, his plan -would fail. Guy would write to her, "Come!" and she should go, and more -than once she counted the contents of her purse and added to it the sum -due her from Madame Lafarcade, and wondered if she would dare venture on -the journey with so small a sum. - -"You so happy and white, too, this morning," her little pupil, Pauline, -said to her one day, when they sat together in the garden, and Daisy was -indulging in a fanciful picture of her meeting with Guy. - -"Yes, I am happy," Daisy said, rousing from her revery; "but I did not -know I was pale, or white, as you term it, though, now I think of it, I -do feel sick and faint. It's the heat, I suppose. Oh! there is Max, with -the mail! He is coming this way! He has,--he certainly has something for -me!" - -Daisy's cheeks were scarlet now, and her eyes were bright as stars as -she went forward to meet the man who brought the letters to the house. - -"Only a paper!--is there nothing more?" she asked, in an unsteady voice, -as she took the paper in her hand, and recognizing Guy's handwriting, -knew almost to a certainty what was before her. - -"Oh, you are sick, I must bring some water," Pauline exclaimed, alarmed -at Daisy's white face and the peculiar tone of her voice. - -"No, Pauline, stay; open the paper for me," Daisy said, feeling that it -would be easier so than to read it herself, for she knew what was there, -else he would never have sent her a paper and nothing more. - -Delighted to be of some use, and a little gratified to open a foreign -paper, Pauline tore off the wrapper, starting a little at Daisy's quick, -sharp cry as she made a rent across the handwriting. - -"Look, you are tearing into my name, which he wrote," Daisy said, and -then remembering herself she sank back into her seat in the garden -chair, while Pauline wondered what harm there was in tearing an old -soiled wrapper, and why her governess should take it so carefully in her -hand and roll it up as if it had been a living thing. - -There were notices of new books, and a runaway match in high life, and a -suicide on Sumner street, and a golden wedding in Roxbury, and the -latest fashions from Paris, into which Pauline plunged with avidity, -while Daisy listened like one in a dream, asking, when the fashions were -exhausted, "Is that all? Are there no deaths or marriages?" - -Pauline had not thought of that,--she would see; and she hunted through -the columns till she found Guy's pencil mark, and read: - -"Married, this morning, in----church, by the Rev. Dr.----, assisted by -the rector, Guy Thornton, Esq., of Cuylerville, to Miss Julia Hamilton, -of this city." - -"Yes, yes, I see,--I know, it's very hot here, isn't it? I think I will -go in," Daisy said, her fingers working nervously with the bit of paper -she held. - -But Pauline was too intent on the name Thornton to hear what Daisy said, -and she asked: "Is Mr. Thornton your friend or your relative?" - -It was natural enough question, and Daisy roused herself to answer it, -and said, quickly: "He is the son of my husband's father." - -"Oh, _oui_," Pauline rejoined, a little mystified as to the exact -relationship existing between Guy Thornton and her teacher's husband, -who she supposed was dead, as Daisy had only confided to madame the fact -of a divorce. - -"What date is the paper?" Daisy asked, and on being told she said softly -to herself: "I see; it was too late." - -There was in her mind no doubt as to what the result would have been had -her letter been in time; no doubt of Guy's preference for herself, no -regret that she had written to him, except that the knowledge that she -loved him at last would make him wretched with thinking "what might have -been," and with the bitter pain which cut her heart like a knife there -was mingled a pity for Guy, who would perhaps suffer more than she did, -if that were possible. She never once thought of retribution, or of -murmuring against her fate, but accepted it meekly, albeit she staggered -under the load and grew faint as she thought of the lonely life before -her, and she so young. - -Slowly she went back to her room, while Pauline walked up and down the -garden, trying to make out the relationship between the newly-married -Thornton and her teacher. - -"The son of her husband's father?" she repeated, until at last a meaning -dawned upon her, and she said: "Then he must be her brother-in-law; but -why didn't she say so? Maybe, though, that is the English way of putting -it;" and having thus settled the matter Pauline joined her mother, who -was asking for Mrs. Thornton. - -"Gone to her room, and her brother-in-law is married. It was marked in a -paper, and I read it to her, and she's sick," Pauline said, without, -however, in the least connecting the sickness with the marriage. - -Daisy did not come down to dinner that night, and the maid who called -her the next morning reported her as ill and acting very strangely. -Through the summer a malarious fever had prevailed to some extent in and -about Rouen, and the physician whom Madame Lafarcade summoned to the -sick girl expressed a fear that she was coming down with it, and ordered -her kept as quiet as possible. - -"She seems to have something weighing on her mind. Has she heard any bad -news from home?" he asked, as in reply to his question where her pain -was the worst, Daisy always answered: - -"It reached him too late--too late, and I am so sorry." - -Madame knew of no bad news, she said, and then as she saw the foreign -paper lying on the table, she took it up, and, guided by the pencil -marks, read the notice of Guy Thornton's marriage, and that gave her the -key at once to Daisy's mental agitation. Daisy had been frank with her -and told as much of her story as was necessary, and she knew that the -Guy Thornton married to Julia Hamilton had once called Daisy his wife. - -"Excuse me, she is, or she has something on her mind, I suspect," she -said to the physician, who was still holding Daisy's hand and looking -anxiously at her flushed cheeks and bright, restless eyes. - -"I thought so," he rejoined, "and it aggravates all the symptoms of her -fever. I shall call again to-night." - -He did call, and found his patient worse, and the next day he asked of -Madame Lafarcade: - -"Has she friends in this country? If so, they ought to know." - -A few hours later and in his lodgings at Berlin, Tom read the following -dispatch: - -"Mrs. Thornton is dangerously ill. Come at once." - -It was directed to Mr. McDonald, who with his wife had been on a trip to -Russia, and was expected daily. Feeling intuitively that it concerned -Daisy, Tom had opened it, and without a moment's hesitation packed his -valise and leaving a note for the McDonalds when they should return, -started for Rouen. Daisy did not know him, and in her delirium she said -things to him and of him which hurt him cruelly. Guy was her theme, and -the letter which went "too late, too late." Then she would beg of Tom to -go for Guy, to bring him to her, and tell him how much she loved him and -how good she would be if he would only take her back. - -"Father wants me to marry Tom," she said in a whisper, and Tom's heart -almost stood still as he listened; "and Tom wanted me, too, but I -couldn't, you know, even if he were worth his weight in gold. I could -not love him. Why, he's got red hair, and such great freckles on his -face, and big feet and hands with frecks on them. Do you know Tom?" - -"Yes, I know him," Tom answered, sadly, forcing down a choking sob, -while the "big hand with the great frecks on it," smoothed the golden -hair tenderly, and pushed it back from the burning brow. - -"Don't talk any more, Daisy; it tires you so," he said, as he saw her -about to speak again. - -But Daisy was not to be stopped, and she went on: - -"Tom is good, though; so good, but awkward, and I like him ever so much, -but I can't be his wife. I cannot. I cannot." - -"He doesn't expect it now, or want it," came huskily from Tom, while -Daisy quickly asked: - -"Doesn't he?" - -"No, never any more; so, put it from your mind and try to sleep," Tom -said, and again the freckled hands smoothed the tumbled pillows and -wiped the sweat drops from Daisy's face, while all the time the great -kind heart was breaking, and the hot tears were rolling down the -sunburnt face Daisy thought so ugly. - -Tom had heard from Madame Lafarcade of Guy's marriage and, like her, -understood why Daisy's fever ran so high, and her mind was in such -turmoil. But for himself he knew there was no hope, and with a feeling -of death in his heart he watched by her day and night, yielding his -place to no one, and saying to madame, when she remonstrated with him -and bade him care for his own health: - -"It does not matter for me. I would rather die than not." - -Daisy was better when her mother came,--saved, the doctor said, more by -Tom's care and nursing than by his own skill, and then Tom gave up his -post, and never went near her unless she asked for him. His "red hair -and freckled face" were constantly in his mind, making him loathe the -very sight of himself. - -"She cannot bear my looks, and I will not force myself upon her," he -thought; and so he staid away, but surrounded her with every luxury -money could buy, and as soon as she was able had her removed to a pretty -little cottage which he rented and fitted up for her, and where she -would be more at home and quieter than at Madame Lafarcade's. - -And there one morning when he called to inquire for her, he, too, was -smitten down with the fever which he had taken with Daisy's breath the -many nights and days he watched by her without rest or sufficient food. -There was a faint, followed by a long interval of unconsciousness, and -when he came to himself he was in Daisy's own room lying on Daisy's -little bed, and Daisy herself was bending anxiously over him, with a -flush on her white cheeks and a soft, pitiful look in her blue eyes. - -"What is it? Where am I?" he asked, and Daisy replied: - -"You are here in my room; and you've got the fever, and I'm going to -take care of you, and I'm so glad. Not glad you have the fever," she -added, as she met his look of wonder, "but glad I can repay in part all -you did for me, you dear, noble Tom! And you are not to talk," and she -laid her hand on his mouth as she saw him about to speak. "I am strong -enough; the doctor says so, and I'd do it if he didn't, for you are the -best, the truest friend I have." - -She was rubbing his hot, feverish hands, and though the touch of her -cool, soft fingers was so delicious, poor Tom thought of the big frecks -so obnoxious to the little lady, and drawing his hands from her grasp -hid them beneath the clothes. Gladly, too, would he have covered his -face and hair from her sight, but this he could not do and breathe, so -he begged her to leave him, and send some one in her place. But Daisy -would not listen to him. - -He had nursed her day and night, she said, and she should stay with him, -and she did stay through the three weeks when Tom's fever ran higher -than hers had done, and when Tom in his ravings talked of things which -made her heart ache with a new and different pain from that already -there. - -At first there were low whisperings and incoherent mutterings, and when -Daisy asked him to whom he was talking he answered: - -"To that other one over in the corner. Don't you see him? He is waiting -for me till the fever eats me up. There's a lot of me to eat, I'm so big -and awkward, overgrown,--that's what Daisy said. You know Daisy, don't -you? a dainty little creature, with such delicacy of sight and touch. -She doesn't like red hair; she said so, when we thought the man in the -corner was waiting for her; and she doesn't like my freckled face and -hands,--big hands, she said they were, and yet how they have worked like -horses for her. Oh, Daisy, Daisy, I have loved her ever since she was a -child, and I drew her to school on my sled and cut her doll's head off -to tease her. Take me quick, please, out of her sight, where my freckled -face won't offend her." - -He was talking now to that other one, the man in the corner, who like -some grim sentinel stood there day and night, while Daisy kept her -tireless watch and Tom talked on and on,--never to her,--but always to -the other one, the man in the corner, whom he begged to take him away. - -"Bring out your boat," he would say. "It's time we were off, for the -tide is at its height, and the river is running so fast. I thought once -it would take Daisy, but it left her and I am glad. When I am fairly -over and there's nothing but my big freckled hulk left, cover my face, -and don't let her look at me, though I'll be white then, not red. Oh, -Daisy, Daisy, my darling, you hurt me so cruelly." - -Those were terrible days for Daisy, but she never left her post, and -stood resolutely between the sick man and _that other one_ in the -corner, until the latter seemed to waver a little; his shadow was not so -black, his presence so all-pervading, and there was hope for Tom, the -doctor said. His reason came back at last, and the fever left him, weak -as a little child, with no power to move even his poor wasted hands, -which lay outside the counterpane and seemed to trouble him, for there -was a wistful, pleading look in his gray eyes as they went from the -hands to Daisy, and his lips whispered faintly: "Cover." - -She understood him, and with a rain of tears spread the sheet over them, -and then on her knees beside him, said to him, amid her sobs: - -"Forgive me, Tom, for what I said when I was crazy. You are not -repulsive to me. You are the truest, best, and dearest friend I ever -had, and I--I--Oh, Tom, live for my sake, and let me prove how--Oh, Tom, -I wish I had never been born." - -Daisy did not stay with Tom that night. There was no necessity for it, -and she was so worn and weary with watching that the physician declared -she must have absolute rest or be sick again. So she staid away, and in -a little room by herself fought the fiercest battle she had ever fought, -and on her knees, with tears and bitter cries, asked for help to do -right. Not for help to know what was right. She felt sure that she did -know that, only the flesh was weak, and there were chords of love still -clinging to a past she scarcely dared think of now, lest her courage -should fail her. Guy was lost to her forever; it was a sin even to think -of him as she must think if she thought at all, and so she strove to put -him from her,--to tear his image from her heart, and put another in its -place,--Tom, whom she pitied so much, and whom she could make so happy. - -"No matter for myself," she said at last. "No matter what I feel, or how -sharp the pain in my heart, if I only keep it there and never let Tom -know. I can make him happy, and I will." - -There was no wavering after that decision,--no regret for the "might -have been,"--but her face was white as snow, and about the pretty mouth -there was a quivering of the muscles, as if the words were hard to -utter, when next day she went to Tom, and sitting down beside him, asked -how he was feeling. His eyes brightened a little when he saw her, but -there was a look on his face which made Daisy's pulse quicken with a -nameless fear, and his voice was very weak, as he replied: - -"They say I am better; but, Daisy, I know the time is near for me to go. -I shall never get well, and I do not wish to, though life is not a gift -to be thrown away easily, and on some accounts mine has been a happy -one, but the life beyond is better, and I feel sure I am going to it." - -"Oh, Tom, Tom, don't talk so. You must not leave me now," Daisy cried, -all her composure giving way as she fell on her knees beside him, and -taking both his hands in hers wet them with her tears. "Tom," she began, -when she could speak, "I have been bad to you so often, and worried and -wounded you so much; but I am sorry, so sorry,--and I've thought it all -over real earnestly and seriously, and made up my mind, and I want you -to get well and ask me that,--that--question again,--you have asked so -many times,--and--and--Tom,--I will say--yes--to it now, and try so hard -to make you happy." - -Her face was crimson as if with shame, and she dared not look at Tom -until his silence startled her. Then she stole a glance at him, and met -an expression which prompted her to go on recklessly: - -"Don't look so incredulous, Tom. I am in earnest. I mean what I say, -though it may be unmaidenly to say it. Try me, Tom. I will make you -happy, and though at first I cannot love you as I did Guy when I sent -him that letter, the love will come, born of your great goodness and -kindness of heart. Try me, Tom, won't you?" - -She kissed his thin white hands where the freckles showed more plainly -than ever, and which Tom tried to free from her; she held them fast and -looked steadily into the face, which shone for a moment with a joy so -great that it was almost handsome, and when she said again: "Will you, -Tom?" the pale lips parted with an effort to speak, but no sound was -audible, only the chin quivered and the tears stood in Tom's eyes as he -battled with the temptation. Should he accept the sacrifice? It would be -worth trying to live for, if Daisy could be his wife, but ought he to -join her life with his? Could she ever learn to love him? No, she could -not, and he must put her from him, even though she came asking him to -take her. Thus Tom decided, and turning his face to the wall, he said -with a choking sob: - -"No, Daisy. It cannot be. Such happiness is not for me now. I must not -think of it, for I am going to die. Thank you, darling, just the same. -It was kind in you and well meant, but it cannot be. I could not make -you happy. I am not like Guy; never could be like him, and you would -hate me after a while, and the chain would hurt you cruelly. No, Daisy, -I love you too well,--and yet, Daisy,--Daisy,--why do you tempt me -so,--if it could be, I might perhaps get well, I should try so hard." - -He turned suddenly toward her, and winding both his arms around her, -drew her to him in a quick, passionate embrace, crying piteously over -her, and saying: - -"My darling, my darling, if it could have been, but it's too late -now,--God is good and will take me to Himself. I thought a great deal -before I was sick, and believe I am a better man, and that Jesus is my -friend, and I am going to him. I'm glad you told me what you have. It -will make my last days happier, and when I am gone, you will find that I -did well with you." - -He put her from him then, for faintness and exhaustion were stealing -over him, and that was the last that ever passed between him and Daisy -on the subject which all his life had occupied so much of his thoughts. -The fever had left him, it is true, but he seemed to have no vital force -or rallying power, and, after a few days, it was clear even to Daisy -that Tom's life was drawing to a close. "The man in the corner," who had -troubled him so much, was there again, and Tom was very happy. He had -thought much of death and what lay beyond during those days when Daisy's -life hung in the balance, and the result of the much thinking had been a -full surrender of himself to God, who did not forsake him when the dark, -cold river was closing over him. - -Calm and peaceful as the setting of the summer sun was the close of his -life, and up to the last he retained his consciousness, with the -exception of a few hours, when his mind wandered a little, and he talked -to "that other one," whom no one could see, but whose presence all felt -so vividly. - -"It would have been pleasant, and for a minute I was tempted to take her -at her word," he said; "but when I remembered my hair, and face, and -hands, and how she liked nothing which was not comely, I would not run -the chance of being hated for my repulsive looks. Poor little Daisy! she -meant it all right, and I bless her for it, and am glad she said it, but -she must not look at me when I'm dead. The frecks she dislikes so much -will show plainer then. Don't let her come near, or, if she must, cover -me up,--cover me up,--cover me from her sight." - -Thus he talked, and Daisy, who knew what he meant, wept silently by his -side, and kept the sheet closely drawn over the hands he was so anxious -to conceal. He knew her at the last, and bade her farewell, and told her -she had been to him the dearest thing in life; and Daisy's arm was round -him, supporting him upon the pillow, and Daisy's hand wiped the death -moisture from his brow, and Daisy's lips were pressed to his dying face, -and her ear caught his faint whisper: - -"God bless you, darling! I am going home! Good-bye." - -"The man in the corner,--that other one,"--had claimed him, and Daisy -put gently from her the lifeless form which had once been Tom. - -They buried him there in France, on a sunny slope, where the grass was -green and the flowers blossomed in the early spring; and, when Mr. -McDonald examined his papers, he found to his surprise that, with the -exception of an annuity to himself, and several legacies to different -charitable institutions, Tom had left to Daisy his entire fortune, -stipulating only that one-tenth of all her income should be yearly given -back to God, who had a right to it. - - - - -CHAPTER X.--MISS MCDONALD. - - -She took the name again, and with it, also, Margaret, feeling that Daisy -was far too girlish an appellation for one who clad herself in the -deepest mourning, and felt, when she stood at poor Tom's grave, more -wretched and desolate than many a wife has felt when her husband was -buried from sight. - -Tom had meant to make her parents independent of her so that she need -not have them with her unless she chose to do so, for knowing Mr. -McDonald as he did, he thought she would be happier without him; but God -so ordered it that within three months after poor Tom's death, they made -another grave beside his, and Daisy and her mother were alone. - -It was spring time, and the two desolate women bade adieu to their dead, -and made their way to England, and from there to Scotland, where among -the heather hills they passed the summer in the utmost seclusion. - -Here Daisy had ample time for thought, which dwelt mostly upon the past -and the happiness she cast away when she consented to the sundering of -the tie which had bound her to Guy Thornton. - -"Oh, how could I have been so foolish and so weak," she said, as with -intense contempt for herself, she read over the journal she had kept at -Elmwood during the first weeks of her married life. - -Guy had said it would be pleasant for her to refer to its pages in after -years, little dreaming with what sore anguish of heart poor Daisy would -one day weep over the senseless things recorded there. - -"Can it be I was ever that silly little fool?" she said bitterly, as she -finished her journal. "And how could Guy love me as he did. Oh, if I but -had the chance again, I would make him so happy. Oh, Guy, Guy,--my -husband still,--mine more than Julia's, if you could know how much I -love you now; nor can I feel it wrong to do so, even though I never hope -to see your face again, Guy, Guy, the world is so desolate, and I am -young, only twenty-three, and life is so long and dreary with nothing to -live for or to do. I wish almost that I were dead like Tom, only I dare -not think I should go to the Heaven where he has gone." - -In her sorrow and loneliness, Daisy was fast sinking into an unhealthy -morbid state of mind from which nothing seemed to rouse her. - -"Nothing to live for,--nothing to do," was her lament, until one golden -September day, when there came a turning point in her life, and she -found there was something to do. - -There was no regular service that Sunday in the church where she usually -attended, and as the day was fine and she was far too restless to remain -at home, she proposed to her mother that they walk to a little chapel -about a mile away, where a young Presbyterian clergyman was to preach. - -She had heard much of his eloquence, and as his name was McDonald, he -might possibly be some distant relative, inasmuch as her father was of -Scotch descent, and she felt a double interest in him, and with her -mother was among the first who entered the little humble building, and -took a seat upon one of the hard, uncomfortable benches near the pulpit. - -The speaker was young,--about Tom's age,--and with a look on his florid -face and a sound in his voice so like that of the dead man that Daisy -half started to her feet when he first took his stand in front of her, -and announced the opening hymn. His text was, "Why stand ye here all the -day idle?" and so well did he handle it, and so forcible were his -gestures and eloquent his style of delivery, that Daisy listened to him -spell-bound, her eyes fixed intently upon his glowing face, and her ears -drinking in every word he uttered. - -After dwelling a time upon the loiterers in God's vineyard, the idlers -from choice, who worked not for lack of an inclination to do so, he -spoke next of the class whose whole life was a weariness for want of -something to do, and to these he said, "Have you never read how, when -the disciples rebuked the grateful woman for wasting upon her Master's -head what might have been sold for three hundred pence, and given to the -poor, Jesus said unto them, 'The poor ye have with you always,' and is -it not so, my hearers? Are there no poor at your door to be fed, no -hungry little ones to be cared for out of the abundance which God has -only loaned for this purpose? Are there no wretched homes which you can -make happier, no aching hearts which a kind word would cheer? Remember -there is a blessing pronounced for even the cup of cold water, and how -much greater shall be the reward of those who, forgetting themselves, -seek the good of others and turn not away from the needy and the -desolate. See to it, then, you to whom God has given much. See to it -that you sit not down in idle ease, wasting upon yourself alone the -goods designed for others; for to whom much is given of him much shall -be required." - -Attracted, perhaps, by the deep black of Daisy's attire, or the -something about her which marked her as different from the mass of his -hearers, the speaker seemed to address the last of his remarks directly -to her, and had the dead Tom risen from his grave and spoken with her -face to face, she could hardly have been more affected than she was. The -resemblance was so striking and the voice so like her cousin's, that she -felt as if she had received a message direct from him; or, if not from -him, she surely had from God, whose almoner she henceforth would be. - -That day was the beginning of a new life to her. Thenceforth there must -be no more repining; no more idle, listless days, no more wishing for -something to do. There was work all around her, and she found it and did -it with a will,--first, from a sense of duty, and at last for the real -pleasure it afforded her to carry joy and gladness to the homes where -want and sorrow had been so long. - -Hearing that there was sickness and destitution among the miners in -Peru, where her possessions were, she went there early in November, and -many a wretched heart rejoiced because of her, and many a lip blessed -the beautiful lady whose coming among them was productive of so much -good. Better dwellings, better wages, a church, a school-house followed -in her footsteps, and then, when everything seemed in good working -order, there came over her a longing for her native country, and the -next autumn found her in New York, where in a short space of time -everybody knew of the beautiful Miss McDonald, who was a millionaire and -who owned the fine house and grounds in the upper part of the city not -far from the Park. - -Here society claimed her again, and Daisy, who had no morbid fancies -now, yielded in part to its claims, and became, if not a belle, at least -a favorite, whose praises were in every mouth. But chiefly was she known -and loved by the poor and the despised whom she daily visited, and to -whom her presence was like the presence of an angel. - -"You do look lovely and sing so sweet; I know there's nothing nicer in -Heaven," said a little piece of deformity to her one day as it lay dying -in her arms. "I'se goin' to Heaven, which I shouldn't have done if -you'se hadn't gin me the nice bun and told me of Jesus. I loves Him now, -and I'll tell Him how you bringed me to Him." - -Such was the testimony of one dying child, and it was dearer to Daisy -than all the words of flattery ever poured into her ear. As she had -brought that little child to God so she would bring others, and she made -her work among the children especially, finding there her best -encouragement and greatest success. - -Once when Guy Thornton chanced to be in the city and driving in the -Park, he saw a singular sight--a pair of splendid bays arching their -graceful necks proudly, their silver-tipped harness flashing in the -sunlight, and their beautiful mistress radiant with happiness as she sat -in her open carriage, not with gayly-dressed friends, but amid a group -of poorly-clad pale-faced little ones, to whom the Park was paradise, -and she the presiding angel. - -"Look,--that's Miss McDonald," Guy's friend said to him, "the greatest -heiress in New York, and I reckon the one who does the most good. Why, -she supports more old people and children and runs more ragged schools -than any half-dozen men in the city, and I don't suppose there's a den -in New York where she has not been, and never once, I'm told, was she -insulted, for the vilest of them stand between her and harm. Once a -miscreant on Avenue A knocked a boy down for accidently stepping in a -pool of water and spattering her white dress in passing. Friday nights -she has a reception for these people, and you ought to see how well they -behave. At first they were noisy and rough, and she had to have the -police, but now they are quiet and orderly as you please, Perhaps you'd -like to go to one. I know Miss McDonald, and will take you with me." - -Guy said he should not be in town on Friday, as he must, return to -Cuylerville the next day, and with a feeling he could not quite analyze -he turned to look at the turnout which excited so much attention. But it -was not so much at the handsome bays and the bevy of queer-looking -children he gazed, as at the lady in their midst, clad in velvet and -ermine, with a long white feather falling among the curls of her bright -hair. When Daisy first entered upon her new life, she had affected a -nun-like garb as most appropriate, but after a little child said to her -once: "I don't like your black gown all the time. I likes sumptin' -bright and pretty," she changed her dress and gave freer scope to her -natural good taste and love of what was becoming. And the result showed -the wisdom of the change, for the children and inmates of the dens she -visited, accustomed only to the squallor and ugliness of their -surroundings, hailed her more rapturously than they had done before, and -were never weary of talking of the beautiful woman who was not afraid to -wear her pretty clothes into their wretched houses, which gradually grew -more clean and tidy for her sake. - -"It wasn't for the likes of them gownds to trail through sich truck," -Bridget O'Donohue said, and on the days when Daisy was expected, she -scrubbed the floor, which, until Daisy's advent had not known water for -years, and rubbed and polished the one wooden chair kept sacred for the -lady's use. - -Other women, too, caught Biddy's spirit and scrubbed their floors and -their children's faces on the day when Miss McDonald was to call, and -when she came, she was watched narrowly, lest by some chance a speck of -dirt should fall upon her, and her becoming dress and handsome face were -commented on and remembered as some fine show which had been seen for -nothing. Especially did the children like her in her bright dress, and -the velvet and ermine in which she was clad when Guy met her in the Park -were worn more for their sakes, than for the gaze of those to whom such -things were no novelties. To Guy she looked more beautiful than he had -ever seen her before, and there was in his heart a feeling like a want -of something lost, as her carriage disappeared from, view and he lost -sight of the fair face and form which had once been his own. - -The world was going well with Guy, for though Dick Trevylian had paid no -part of the one hundred thousand dollars, and he still lived in the -Brown Cottage on the hill, he was steadily working his way to -competency, if not to wealth. His profession as lawyer, which he had -resumed, yielded him a remunerative income, while his contributions to -different magazines were much sought after, so that to all human -appearance he was prosperous and happy. Prosperous in his business, and -happy in his wife and little ones, for there was now a second child, a -baby Guy of six weeks old, and when on his return from New York the -father bent over the cradle of his boy, and kissed his baby face, that -image seen in the Park seemed to fade away, and the caresses he gave to -Julia had in them no faithlessness or insincerity. She was a noble -woman, and had made him a good wife, and he loved her truly, though with -a different, less absorbing, less ecstatic love than he had given to -Daisy. But he did not tell her of Miss McDonald. Indeed, that name was -never spoken now, nor was any reference ever made to her except when the -little Daisy sometimes asked where was the lady for whom she was named, -and why she did not send her a doll. - -"I hardly think she knows there is such a chit as you," Guy said to her -once, when sorely pressed on the subject; and then the child wondered -how that could be; and wished she was big enough to write her a letter -and ask her to come and see her. - -Every day after that little Daisy played "make b'leve Miss Mack-Dolly" -was there, said Mack-Dolly being represented by a bundle of shawls tied -up to look like a figure and seated in a chair. At last there came to -the cottage a friend of Julia's, a young lady from New York, who knew -Miss McDonald, and who, while visiting in Cuylerville, accidentally -learned that she was the divorced wife, of whose existence she knew, but -of whom she had never spoken to Mrs. Thornton. Hearing the little one -talking one day to Miss Mack-Dolly, asking her why she never wrote, nor -sent a "sing" to her _sake-name_, the young lady said: - -"Why don't you send Miss McDonald a letter? You tell me what to say and -I'll write it down for you, but don't let mamma know till you see if you -get anything." - -The little girl's fancy was caught at once with the idea, and the -following letter was the result: - - "_Brown Cottage_, 'Most Tissmas time. - -"_Dear Miss Mac-Dolly_:--I'se an 'ittle dirl named for you, I is, Daisy -Thornton, an' my papa is Mr. Guy, an' mam-ma is Julia, and 'ittle -brother is Guy, too--only he's a baby, and vomits up his dinner and ties -awfully sometimes; an' I knows anoder 'ittle dirl named for somebody who -dives her 'sings,' a whole lot, an' why doesn't youse dive me some, when -I'se your sake-name, an' loves you ever so much, and why you never turn -here to see me? I wish you would. I ask papa is you pretty, an' he tell -me yes, bootiful, an' every night I pays for you and say God bress papa -an' mam-ma, an' auntie, and Miss Mac-Dolly, and 'ittle brodder, an' make -Daisy a dood dirl, and have Miss Mac-Dolly send her sumptin' for -Tissmas, for Christ's sake. An' I wants a turly headed doll that ties -and suts her eyes when she does to seep, and wears a shash and a -pairesol, and anodder big dolly to be her mam-ma and pank her when she's -naughty, an' I wants an' 'ittle fat-iran, an' a cook-stove, an' -washboard. I'se dot a tub. An' I wants some dishes an' a stenshun table, -an' 'ittle bedstead, an' yuffled seets, an' pillars, an' bue silk kilt, -an' ever many sings which papa cannot buy, cause he hasn't dot the -money. Vill you send them, Miss Mac-Dolly, pese, an' your likeness, too. -I wants to see how you looks. My mam-ma is pretty, with back hair an' -eyes, but she's awful old--I dess. How old is you? Papa's hair is some -dray, an' his viskers, too. My eyes is bue. - - "Yours, respectfully, "_Daisy Thornton_." - - ---- - -Miss McDonald had been shopping since ten in the morning, and her -carriage had stood before dry goods stores, and toy shops, and candy -stores, while bundle after bundle had been deposited on the cushions and -others ordered to be sent. But she was nearly through now, and, just as -it was beginning to grow dark in the streets, she bade her coachman -drive home, where dinner was waiting for her in the dining-room, and her -mother was waiting in the parlor. Mrs. McDonald was not very well, and -had kept her room all day, but she was better that night, and came down -to dine with her daughter. The December wind was cold and raw, and a few -snowflakes fell on Daisy's hat and cloak as she ran up the steps and -entered the warm, bright room, which seemed so pleasant when contrasted -with the dreariness without. - -"Oh, how nice this is, and how tired and cold I am!" she said, as she -bent over the blazing fire. - -"Are you through with your shopping?" Mrs. McDonald asked, in a -half-querulous tone, as if she did not altogether approve of her -daughter's acts. - -"Yes, all through, except a shawl for old Sarah Mackie, and a few more -toys for Biddy Warren's blind boy," Daisy said, and her mother replied: -"Well, I'm sure I shall be glad for your sake when it is over. You'll -make youself sick, and you are nearly worn out now, remembering everbody -in New York." - -"Not quite everybody, mother," Daisy rejoined, cheerfully; "only those -whom everybody forgets,--the poor, whom we have with us always. Don't -you remember the text, and the little kirk where we heard it preached -from? But come,--dinner is ready, and I am hungry, I assure you." - -She led the way to the handsome dining-room, and took her seat at the -table, looking, in her dark street dress, as her mother had said, pale -and worn, as if the shopping had been very hard upon her. And yet it was -not so much the fatigue of the day which affected her as the remembrance -of a past she did not often dare to recall. - -It was at Christmas time years ago that she first met with Guy, and all -the day long, as she turned over piles of shawls, and delaines, and -flannels, or ordered packages of candy, and bonbons, and dollies by the -dozen, her thoughts had been with Guy and the time she met him at Leiter -and Field's and he walked home with her. It seemed to her years and -years ago, and the idea of having lived so long made her feel old and -tired and worn. But the nice dinner and the cheer of the room revived -her, and her face looked brighter and more rested when she returned to -the parlor, and began to show her mother her purchases. - -Daisy did not receive many letters except on business, and, as these -usually came in the morning, she did not think to ask if the postman had -left her anything; and so it was not until her mother had retired and -she was about going to her own room, that she saw a letter lying on the -hall-stand. Miss Barker, who had instigated the letter, had never -written to her more than once or twice, and then only short notes, and -she did not recognize the handwriting at once. But she saw it was -post-marked Cuylerville, and a sick, faint sensation crept over her as -she wondered who had sent it, and if it contained news of Guy. It was -long since she had heard of him,--not, in fact, since poor Tom's death; -and she knew nothing of the little girl called for herself, and thus had -no suspicion of the terrible shock awaiting her, when at last she broke -the seal. Miss Barker had written a few explanatory lines, which were as -follows: - - "_Cuylerville_, Dec., 18--. - -"_Dear Miss McDonald_:--Since saying good-bye to you last June, and -going off to the mountains and seaside, while you, like a good -Samaritan, stayed in the hot city to look after 'your people,' I have -flitted hither and thither until at last I floated out to Cuylerville to -visit Mrs. Guy Thornton, who is a friend and former schoolmate of mine. -Here,--not in the house, but in town,--I have heard a story which -surprised me not a little, and I now better understand that sad look I -have so often seen on your face without at all suspecting the cause. - -"Dear friend, pardon me, won't you, for the liberty I have taken since -knowing your secret? You would, I am sure, if you only knew what a dear, -darling little creature Mr. Thornton's eldest child is. Did you know he -had called her Daisy for you? He has, and with her blue eyes and bright -auburn hair, she might pass for your very own, with the exception of her -nose, which is decidedly _retrousse_. She is three years old, and the -most precocious little witch you ever saw. What think you of her making -up a bundle of shawls and aprons, and christening it _Miss Mac-Dolly_, -her name for you, and talking to it as if it were really the famous and -beautiful woman she fancies it to be? She is your 'sake-name,' she says, -and before I knew the facts of the case, I was greatly amused by her -talk to the bundle of shawls which she reproached for never having sent -her anything. When I asked Julia (that's Mrs. Thornton) who Miss -Mac-Dolly was, she merely answered, 'the lady for whom Daisy was named,' -and that was all I knew until the gossips enlightened me, when, without -a word to any one, I resolved upon a liberty which I thought I could -venture to take with you. I suggested the letter which I inclose, and -which I wrote exactly as the words came from the little lady's lips. -Neither Mr. Thornton, nor his wife, know aught of the letter, nor will -they unless you respond, for the child will keep her own counsel, I am -well assured. - -"Again forgive me if I have done wrong, and believe me, as ever, - - "Yours, sincerely, "_Ella Barker_." - - ---- - -Daisy's face was pale as ashes as she read Miss Barker's letter, and -then snatching up the other devoured its contents almost at a glance, -while her breath came in panting gasps, and her heart seemed trying to -burst through her throat. She could neither move nor cry out for a -moment, but sat like one turned to stone, with a sense of suffocation -oppressing her, and a horrible pain in her heart. She had thought the -grave was closed, the old wound healed by time and silence, and now a -little child had torn it open, and it was bleeding and throbbing again -with a pang such as she had never felt before, while there crept over -her such a feeling of desolation and loneliness, a want of something -unpossessed, as few have ever experienced. - -But for her own foolishness that sweet little child might have been -hers, she thought, as her heart went after the little one with an -indescribable yearning which made her stretch out her arms as if to take -the baby to her bosom and hold it there forever. Guy had called it for -_her_, and that touched her more than anything else. He had not -forgotten her then. She had never supposed he had, but to be thus -assured of it was very sweet, and as she thought of it, and read again -little Daisy's letter, the tightness about her heart and the choking -sensation in her throat began to give way, and one after another the -great tears rolled down her cheeks, slowly at first, but gradually -faster and faster until they fell in torrents, and a tempest of sobs -shook her frame, as with her head bowed upon her dressing-table she gave -vent to her grief. It seemed to her she never could stop crying or grow -calm again, for as often as she thought of the touching words, "I pays -for you," there came a fresh burst of sobs and tears, until at last -nature was exhausted, and with a low moan Daisy sank upon her knees and -tried to pray, the words which first sprang to her lips framing -themselves into thanks that somewhere in the world there was one who -prayed for her and loved her too, even though the love might have for -its object merely dolls, and candies, and toys. And these the child -should have in abundance, and Miss McDonald found herself longing for -the morrow in which to begin again the shopping she had thought was -nearly ended. - -It was in vain next day that her mother remonstrated against her going -out, pleading her white, haggard face and the rawness of the day. Daisy -was not to be detained at home, and before ten o'clock she was down on -Broadway, and the dolly with the "shash," and "pairesol," which she had -seen the day before under its glass case was hers for twenty-five -dollars, and the plainer bit of china, who was to be dollie's mother and -perform the parental duty of "panking her when she was naughty," was -also purchased, and the dishes, and the table, and stove, and bedstead, -with ruffled sheets, and pillow-cases, and blue satin spread, and the -washboard, and clothes-bars, and tiny wringer, and diverse other toys, -were bought with a disregard of expense which made Miss McDonald a -wonder to those who waited on her. Such a Christmas-box was seldom sent -to a child as that which Daisy packed in her room that night, with her -mother looking on and wondering what Sunday-school was to be the -recipient of all those costly presents, and suggesting that cheaper -articles would have answered just as well. - -Everything the child had asked for was there except the picture. That -Daisy dared not send, lest it should look too much like thrusting -herself upon Guy's notice and wound Julia his wife. - -Daisy was strangely pitiful in her thoughts of Julia, who would in her -turn have pitied her for her delusion, could she have known how sure she -was that but for the tardiness of that letter Guy would have chosen his -first love in preference to any other. - -And it was well that each believed herself first in the affection of the -man to whom Daisy wanted so much to send something as a proof of her -unalterable love. They were living still in the brown cottage; they were -not able to buy Elmwood back. Oh, if she only dared to do it, how gladly -her Christmas gift should be the handsome place which they had been so -proud of. But that would hardly do; Guy might not like to be so much -indebted to her; he was proud and sensitive in many points, and so she -abandoned the plan for the present, thinking that by and by she would -purchase and hold it as a gift to her namesake on her bridal day. That -will be better, she said, as she put the last article in the box and saw -it leave her door, directed to Guy Thornton's care. - - ---- - -Great was the surprise at the Brown Cottage, when, on the very night -before Christmas the box arrived and was deposited in the dining-room, -where Guy and Julia, Miss Barker and Daisy, gathered eagerly around it, -the later exclaiming: - -"I knows where it tum from, I do. My sake-name, Miss Mac-Dolly, send it, -see did. I writ and ask her would see, an' see hab." - -"What!" Guy said, as, man-like, he began deliberately to untie every -knot in the string which his wife in her impatience would have cut at -once. "What does the child mean? Do you know, Julia?" - -"I do. I'll explain," Miss Barker said, and in as few words as possible -she told what she had done, while Julia listened with a very grave face, -and Guy was pale to his lips as he went on untying the string and -opening the box. - -There was a letter lying on the top which he handed to Julia, who -steadied her voice to read aloud: - - "New York, December 22, 18--. - -"Darling little _sake-name_ _Daisy_:--Your letter made Miss Mack-Dolly -very happy, and she is so glad to send you the doll with a _shash_, and -the other toys. Write to me again and tell me if they suit you. God -bless you, sweet little one, is the prayer of - - "_Miss McDonald_." - -After that the grave look left Julia's face, and Guy was not quite so -pale, as he took out, one after another, the articles, which little -Daisy hailed with rapturous shouts and exclamations of delight. - -"Oh, isn't she dood, and don't you love her, papa?" she said, while Guy -replied: - -"Yes, it was certainly very kind in her, and generous. No other little -girl in town will have such a box as this." - -He was very white, and there was a strange look in his eyes, but his -voice was perfectly natural as he spoke, and one who knew nothing of his -former relations to Miss McDonald would never have suspected how his -whole soul was moved by this gift to his little daughter. - -"You must write and thank her," he said to Julia, who, knowing that this -was proper, assented without a word, and when on the morning after -Christmas Miss McDonald opened with trembling hands the envelope bearing -the Cuylerville post-mark, she felt a keen pang of disappointment in -finding only a few lines from Julia, who expressed her own and little -Daisy's thanks for the beautiful Christmas box, and signed herself: - - "Truly, _Mrs. Guy Thornton_." - -Not Julia, but Mrs. Guy, and that hurt Daisy more than anything else. - -"Mrs. Guy Thornton! Why need she thrust upon me the name I used to -bear?" she whispered, and her lip quivered a little, and the tears -sprang to her eyes as she remembered all that lay between the present -and the time when she had been Mrs. Guy Thornton. - -She was Miss McDonald now, and Guy was another woman's husband, and with -a bitter pain in her heart, she put away Julia's letter, saying, as she -did so, "And that's the end of that." - -The box business had not resulted just as she hoped it would. She had -thought Guy would write himself, and by some word or allusion assure her -of his remembrance, but instead, there had come to her a few perfectly -polite and well-expressed lines from Julia, who had the _impertinence_ -to sign herself Mrs. Guy Thornton! It was rather hard and sorely -disappointing, and for many days Miss McDonald's face was very white and -sad, and both the old and young whom she visited as usual wondered what -had come over the beautiful lady, to make her "so pale and sorry." - - - - -CHAPTER XI.--AT SARATOGA. - - -There were no more letters from Mrs. Guy Thornton until the next -Christmas, when another box went to little Daisy, and was acknowledged -as before. Then another year glided and a third box went to Daisy, and -then one summer afternoon in the August following, there came to -Saratoga a gay party from New York, and among other names registered at -one of the large hotels was that of Miss McDonald. It seemed to be her -party, or at least she was its center, and the one to whom the others -deferred as to their head. Daisy was in perfect health that summer, and -in unusually good spirits; and when in the evening, yielding to the -entreaties of her friends, she entered the ball-room, clad in flowing -robes of blue and white, with costly jewels on her neck and arms, she -was acknowledged at once as the star and belle of the evening. She did -not dance,--she rarely did that now, but after a short promenade through -the room she took a seat near the door, and was watching the gay -dancers, when she felt her arm softly touched, and turning saw her maid -standing by her, with an anxious, frightened look upon her face. - -"Come, please, come quick," she said, in a whisper; and following her -out, Miss McDonald asked what was the matter. - -"_This_, you must go away at once. I'll pack your things. I promised not -to tell, but I must. I can't see your pretty face all spoiled and ugly." - -"What do you mean?" the lady asked, and after a little questioning she -made out from the girl's statement, that in strolling on the back piazza -she had stumbled upon her first cousin, of whose whereabouts she had -known nothing for a long time. - -This girl, Marie, had, it seemed, come to Saratoga a week or ten days -before, with her master's family consisting of his wife and two little -children. As the hotel was crowded, they were assigned rooms for the -night in a distant part of the house, with a promise of something much -better on the morrow. In the morning, however, the lady, who had not -been well for some days, was too sick to leave her bed, and the doctor, -who was called in to see her, pronounced the disease,--here Sarah -stopped and gasped for breath, and looked behind her and all ways, and -finally whispered a word which made even Miss McDonald start a little -and wince with fear. - -"He do call it the _very-o-lord_," Sarah said, "but Mary says it's the -_very old one_ himself. She knows, she has had it, and you can't put -down a pin where it didn't have its claws. They told the landlord, who -was for putting them straight out of doors, but the doctor said the lady -must not be moved,--it was sure death to do it. It was better to keep -quiet, and not make a panic. Nobody need to know it in the house, and -their rooms are so far from everybody that nobody would catch it. So he -let them stay, and the gentleman takes care of her, and Mary keeps the -children in the next room, and carries and brings the things, and keeps -away from everybody. Two of the servants know it, and they've had it, -and don't tell, and she said I mustn't, nor come that side of the house, -but I must tell you so that you can leave to-morrow. The lady is very -bad, and nobody takes care of her but Mr. Thornton. Mary takes things to -the door, and leaves them outside where he can get them." - -"What did you call the gentleman?" Miss McDonald asked, her voice -faltering and her cheek blanching a little. - -"Mr. Thornton, from Cuylerville, a place far in the country," was the -girl's reply; and then, without waiting to hear more, Miss McDonald -darted away, and going to the office, turned the leaves of the Register -to the date of ten or eleven days ago, and read with a beating heart and -quick coming breath: - -"Mr. and Mrs. Guy Thornton, two children and servant. No. -- and --." - -Yes, it was Guy; there could be no mistake, and in an instant her -resolution was taken. Calling her maid, she sent for her shawl and hat, -and then, bidding her follow, walked away in the moonlight. The previous -summer when at Saratoga, she had received medical treatment from Dr. -Schwartz, whom she knew well, and to whose office she directed her -steps. He seemed surprised to see her at that hour, but greeted her -cordially, asked when she came to town and what he could do for her. - -"Tell me if this is still a safeguard," she said, baring her beautiful -white arm, and showing a large round scar. "Will this insure me against -disease?" - -The doctor's face flushed, and he looked uneasily at her as he took her -arm in his hand and examining the scar closely, said: - -"The points are still distinct. I should say the vaccination was -thorough." - -"But another will be safer. Have you fresh matter?" Daisy asked, and he -replied: - -"Yes, some just from a young, healthy cow. I never use the adulterated -stuff which has been humanized. How do I know what humors may be lurking -in the blood? Why, some of the fairest, sweetest babies are full of -scrofula." - -He was going on further with his discussion, when Daisy, who knew his -peculiarities, interrupted him. - -"Never mind the lecture now. Vaccinate me quick, and let me go." - -It was soon done; the doctor saying, as he put away his vial: - -"You were safe without it, I think, and with it you may have no fears -whatever." - -He looked at her curiously again as if asking what she knew or feared, -and observing the look, Daisy said to him: - -"Do you attend the lady at the hotel?" - -He bowed affirmatively and glanced uneasily at Sarah, who was looking on -in surprise. - -"Is she very sick?" was the next inquiry. - -"Yes, very sick." - -"And does no one care for her but her husband?" - -"No one." - -"Has she suffered for care,--a woman's care, I mean?" - -"Well, not exactly; and yet she might be more comfortable with a woman -about her. Women are naturally better nurses than men, and Mr. Thornton -is quite worn out, but it does not make much difference now; the -lady----" - -Daisy did not hear the last part of the sentence, and bidding him -good-night, she went back to the hotel as swiftly as she had left it, -while the doctor stood watching the flutter of her white dress, -wondering how she found it out, and if she would "tell and raise _Cain_ -generally." - -"Of course not. I know her better than that," he said, to himself. "Poor -woman" (referring then to Julia). "Nothing, I fear, can help her now." - -Meanwhile, Daisy had reached the hotel, and without going to her own -room, bade Sarah tell her the way to No. --. - -"What! Oh, Miss McDonald! You surely are not----" Sarah gasped, -clutching at the dress, which her mistress took from her grasp, saying: - -"Yes, I am going to see that lady. I know her, or of her, and I'm not -afraid. Must we let her die alone?" - -"But your face,--your beautiful face," Sarah said, and then Daisy did -hesitate a moment, and glancing into a hall mirror, wondered how the -face she saw there, and which she knew was beautiful, would look scarred -and disfigured as she had seen faces in New York. - -There was a momentary conflict, and then, with an inward prayer that -Heaven would protect her, she passed on down the narrow hall and knocked -softly at No. --, while Sarah stood wringing her hands in genuine -distress, and feeling as if her young mistress had gone to certain ruin. - - - - -CHAPTER XII.--IN THE SICK ROOM. - - -Julia had the small-pox in its most aggravated form. Where she took it, -or when, she did not know; nor did it matter. She _had_ it, and for ten -days she had seen no one but her husband and physician, and had no care -but such as Guy could give her. He had been unremitting in his -attention. Tender and gentle as a woman, he had nursed her night and -day, with no thought for himself and the risk he ran. It was a bad -disease at the best, and now in its worse type it was horrible, but -Julia bore up bravely, thinking always more of others than of herself, -and feeling so glad that Providence had sent them to those -out-of-the-way rooms, where she had at first thought she could not pass -a night comfortably. Her children were in the room adjoining, and she -could hear their little voices as they played together, or asked for -their mamma, and why they must not see her. Alas! they would never see -her again; she knew, and Guy knew it too. The doctor had told them so -when he left them that night, and between the husband and wife words had -been spoken such as are only said when hearts which have been one are -about to be severed for ever. - -To Julia there was no terror in death, save as it took her from those -she loved, her husband and her little ones, and these she had given into -God's keeping knowing His promises are sure. To Guy she had said: - -"You have made me so happy. I want you to remember when I am gone, that -I would not have one look or act of yours changed if I could, and yet, -forgive me, Guy, for saying it, but I know you must often have thought -of that other one whom, you loved first, and it may be best." - -Guy could not speak, but he smoothed her hair tenderly, and his tears -dropped upon the swollen face he could not kiss, as Julia went on. - -"But if you did, you never showed it in the least, and I bless you for -it. Take good care of my children; teach them to remember their mother, -and if in time there comes another in my place, and other little ones -than mine call you father, don't forget me quite, because I love you so -much. Oh, Guy, my darling, it is hard to say good-bye, and know that -after a little this world will go on the same as if I had never been. -Don't think I am afraid. I am not, for Jesus is with me, and I know I am -safe; but still there's a clinging to life, which has been so pleasant -to me. Tell your sister how I loved her. I know she will miss me, and be -good to my children, and if you ever meet _that other one_, tell -her,--tell her,--I----" - -The faint voice faltered here, and when it spoke again, it said: - -"Lift me up, Guy, so I can breathe better while I tell you." - -He lifted her up and held her in his arms, while through the open window -the summer air and the silver moonlight streamed, and in the distance -was heard the sound of music as the dance went merrily on. And just -then, when she was in the minds of both, Daisy came, and her gentle -knock broke the silence of the room and startled both Guy and Julia. - -Who was it that sought entrance to that death-laden, disease-poisoned -room? Not the doctor, sure, for he always entered unannounced, and who -else dared to come there? Thus Guy questioned, hesitating to answer the -knock, when to his utter surprise the door opened and a little figure, -clad in airy robes of white, with its bright hair wreathed with flowers -and gems, came floating in, the blue eyes shining like stars, and the -full red lips parted with the smile, half pleased, half shy, which Guy -remembered so well. - -"Daisy, Daisy!" he cried, and his voice rang like a bell through the -room, as, laying Julia's head back upon the pillow, he sprang to Daisy's -side, and taking her by the shoulder, pushed her gently toward the door, -saying: - -"Why have you come here? Leave us at once; don't you see? don't you -know?" and he pointed toward Julia, whose face showed so plainly in the -gaslight. - -"Yes, I know, and I came to help you take care of her. I am not afraid," -Daisy said, and freeing herself from his grasp, she walked straight up -to Julia and laid her soft white hand upon her head. "I am Daisy," she -said, "and I've come to take care of you. I just heard you were here. -How hot your poor head is; let me bathe it; shall I?" - -She went to the bowl, and wringing a cloth in ice water, bathed the sick -woman's head and held the cool cloth to the face and wiped the parched -lips and rubbed the feverish hands, while Guy stood, looking on, -bewildered and confounded, and utterly unable to say a word or utter a -protest to this angel, as it seemed to him, who had come unbidden to his -aid, forgetful of the risk she ran and the danger she incurred. Once, as -she turned her beautiful face to him and he saw how wondrously fair and -lovely it was, lovely with a different expression from any he had ever -seen there, it came over him with a thrill of horror that that face must -not be marred and disfigured with the terrible pestilence, and he made -another effort to send her away. But Daisy would not go. - -"I am not afraid," she said. "I have just been vaccinated, and there was -already a good scar on my arm; look!" and she pushed back her sleeve, -and showed her round, white arm with the mark upon it. - -Guy did not oppose her after that, but let her do what she liked, and -when, an hour later, the doctor came, he found his recent visitor -sitting on Julia's bed, with Julia's head lying against her bosom and -Julia herself asleep. Some word which sounded very much like -"thunderation" escaped his lips, but he said no more, for he saw in the -sleeping woman's face a look he never mistook. It was death; and ten -minutes after he entered the room Julia Thornton lay dead in Daisy's -arms. - -There was a moment or so of half consciousness, during which they caught -the words, "So kind in you; it makes me easier; be good to the children; -one is called for you, but Guy loved me too. Good-bye. I am going to -Jesus." - -That was the last she ever spoke, and a moment after she was dead. In -his fear lest the facts should be known to his guests, the host insisted -that the body should be removed under cover of the night, and as Guy -knew the railway officials would object to taking it on any train, there -was no alternative except to bury it in town; and so there was brought -to the room a close plain coffin, and Daisy helped lay Julia in it, and -put a white flower in her hair and folded her hands upon her bosom, and -then watched from the window the little procession which followed the -body out to the cemetery, where, in the stillness of the coming day, -they buried it, together with everything which had been used about the -bed, Daisy's party dress included; and when at last the full morning -broke, with stir and life in the hotel, all was empty and still in the -fumigated chamber of death, and in the adjoining room, clad in a simple -white wrapper, with a blue ribbon in her hair, Daisy sat with Guy's -little boy on her lap and her namesake at her side, amusing them as best -she could and telling them their mamma had gone to live with Jesus. - -"Who'll be our mamma now? We must have one. Will oo?" little Daisy -asked, as she hung about the neck of her new friend. - -She knew it was Miss Mack-Dolly, her "sake-name," and in her delight at -seeing her and her admiration of her great beauty, she forgot in part -the dead mamma on whose grave the summer sun was shining. - -The Thorntons left the hotel that day and went back to the house in -Cuylerville, which had been closed for a few weeks, for Miss Frances was -away with some friends in Connecticut. But she returned at once when she -heard the dreadful news, and was there to receive her brother and his -motherless little ones. He told her of Daisy when he could trust himself -to talk at all, of Julia's sickness and death, and Miss Frances felt her -heart go out as it had never gone before toward the woman about whom -little Daisy talked constantly. - -"Most bootiful lady," she said, "an' looked des like an 'ittle dirl, see -was so short, an' her eyes were so bue an' her hair so turly." - -Miss McDonald had won Daisy's heart, and knowing that made her own -happier and lighter than it had been since the day when the paper came -to her with the marked paragraph which crushed her so completely. There -had been but a few words spoken between herself and Guy, and these in -the presence of others, but at their parting he had taken her soft -little hand in his and held it a moment, while he said, with a choking -voice, "God bless you, Daisy. I shall not forgot your kindness to my -poor Julia, and if you should need,--but no, that is too horrible to -think of; may God spare you that. Good-bye." - -And that was all that passed between him and Daisy with regard to the -haunting dread which sent her in a few days to her own house in New -York, where, if the thing she feared came upon her, she would at least -be at home and know she was not endangering the lives of others. But God -was good to her, and though there was a slight fever with darting pains -in her back and a film before her eyes, it amounted to nothing worse, -and might have been the result of fatigue and over-excitement; and when, -at Christmas time, yielding to the importunities of her little namesake, -there was a picture of herself in the box sent to Cuylerville, the face -which Guy scanned even more eagerly than his daughter, was as smooth and -fair and beautiful as when he saw it at Saratoga, bending over his dying -wife. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII.--DAISY'S JOURNAL. - - - _New York_, June 14, 18--. - -To-morrow I am to take my old name of Thornton again, and be Guy's wife -once more. Nor does it seem strange at all that I should do so, for I -have never thought of myself as not belonging to him, even when I knew -he was married to another. And yet when that dreadful night at Saratoga -I went to Julia's room, there was in my heart no thought of this which -has come to me. I only wished to care for her and be a help to Guy. I -did not think of her dying, and after she was dead, there was not a -thought of the future in my mind until little Daisy put it there by -asking if I would be her mamma. Then I seemed to see it all, and -expected it up to the very day, six weeks ago, when Guy wrote to me, -"Daisy, I want you. Will you come to me again as my wife?" - -I was not surprised. I knew he would say it sometime, and I replied at -once, "Yes, Guy, I will." - -He has been here since, and we have talked it over, all the past when I -made him so unhappy, and when I, too, was so wretched, though I did not -say much about that, or tell him of the dull, heavy, gnawing pain which, -sleeping or waking, I carried with me so long, and only lost when I -began to live for others. I did speak of the letter, and said I had -loved him ever since I wrote it, and that his marrying Julia made no -difference, and then I told him of poor Tom, and what I said to him, not -from love but from a sense of duty, and when I told him how Tom would -not take me at my word, he held me close to him and said, "I am glad he -did not, my darling, for then you would never have been mine." - -I think we both wept over those two graves, one far off in sunny France, -the other in Saratoga, and both felt how sad it was that they must be -made in order to bring us together. Poor Julia! She was a noble woman, -and Guy did love her. He told me so, and I am glad of it. I mean to try -to be like her in those things wherein she excelled me. - -We are going straight to Cuylerville to the house where I never was but -once, and that on the night when Guy was sick and Miss Frances made me -go back in the thunder and rain. She is sorry for that, for she told me -so in the long, kind letter she wrote, calling me her little sister and -telling me how glad she is to have me back once more. Accidentally I -heard Elmwood was for sale, and without letting Guy know I bought it, -and sent him the deed, and we are going to make it the most attractive -place in the county. - -It will be our summer home, but in the winter my place is here in New -York with my people, who would starve and freeze without me. Guy has -agreed to that and will be a great help to me. He need never work any -more unless he chooses to do so, for my agent says I am a millionaire, -thanks to poor Tom, who gave me his gold mine and his interest in that -railroad. And for Guy's sake I am glad, and for his children, the -precious darlings; how much I love them already, and how kind I mean to -be to them both for Julia's sake and Guy's. Hush! That's his ring, and -there's his voice in the hall asking for Miss McDonald, and so for the -last time I write that name, and sign myself - - _Margaret McDonald_. - - ---- - - _Extracts from Miss Frances Thornton's Diary._ - - _Elmwood_, June 15th, --. - -I have been looking over an old journal, finished and laid away long -ago, and accidentally I stumbled upon a date eleven years back. It was -Guy's wedding day then; it is his anniversary now, and as on that June -day years ago I worked among my flowers, so have I been with them this -morning, and as then people from the Towers came into our beautiful -grounds, so they came to-day and praised our lovely place and said there -was no spot like it in all the country round. But Julia was not with -them. She will never come to us again. Julia is dead, and her grave is -in Saratoga, for Guy dare not have her moved, but he has erected a -costly monument to her memory, and the mound above her is like some -bright flower bed all the summer long, for he hires a man to tend it, -and goes twice each season to see that it is kept as he wishes to have -it. Julia is dead and Daisy is here again at Elmwood, which she -purchased with her own money, and fitted up with every possible -convenience and luxury. - -Guy is ten years younger than he used to be, and we are all so happy -with this little fairy, who has expanded into a noble woman, and whom I -love as I never loved a living being before, Guy excepted, of course. I -never dreamed when I turned her out into the rain that I should love her -as I do, or that she was capable of being what she is. I would not have -her changed in any one particular, and neither, I am sure, would Guy, -while the children fairly worship her, and must sometimes be troublesome -with their love and their caresses. - -It is just a year since she came back to us. We were in the small house -then, but Daisy's very presence seemed to brighten and beautify it, -until I was almost sorry to leave it last April for this grand place -with all its splendor. - -There was no wedding at all; that is, there were no invited guests, but -never had bride greater honor at her bridal than our Daisy had, for the -church where the ceremony was performed, at a very early hour in the -morning, was literally crowded with the halt, the lame, the maimed and -the blind; the slum of New York; gathered from every back street, and -by-lane, and gutter; Daisy's "people," as she calls them, who came to -see her married, and who, strangest of all, brought with them a present -for the bride; a beautiful family Bible, golden clasped and bound, and -costing fifty dollars. Sandy McGraw presented it, and he had written -upon the fly leaf, "To the dearest friend we ever had, we give this -book, as a slight token of how much we love her." Then followed, upon a -sheet of paper, the names of the donors and how much each gave. Oh, how -Daisy cried when she saw the _ten cents_, and the _five cents_, and the -_three cents_, and the _one cent_, and knew it had all been earned and -saved at some personal sacrifice for her. I do believe she would have -kissed every one of them if Guy had permitted it. She did kiss the -children and shook every hard, soiled hand there, and then Guy took her -away and brought her to our home, where she has been the sweetest, -merriest, happiest, little creature that ever a man called wife, or a -woman sister. She does leave her things round a little, to be sure, and -she is not always ready for breakfast. I guess she never will wholly -overcome those habits, but I can put up with them now better than I -could once. Love makes a vast difference in our estimate of others, and -she could scarcely ruffle me now, even if she kept breakfast waiting -every morning and left her clothes lying three garments deep upon the -floor. As for Guy,--but his happiness is something I cannot describe. -Nothing can disturb his peace, which is as firm as the everlasting -hills. He does not caress her as much as he did once, but his thoughtful -care of her is wonderful, and she is never long from his sight without -his going to seek her. - -May God bless them and keep them always as they are now, at peace with -Him and all in all to each other. - - - - THE END. - - - POPULAR NOVELS BY _MRS. MARY J. HOLMES._ - - _Tempest and Sunshine._ - _English Orphans._ - _Homestead on Hillside._ - _'Lena Rivers._ - _Meadow Brook._ - _Dora Deane._ - _Cousin Maude._ - _Marian Grey._ - _Edith Lyle._ - _Daisy Thornton._ - _Chateau d'Or_ (_New_). - - _Darkness and Daylight._ - _Hugh Worthington._ - _Cameron Pride._ - _Rose Mather._ - _Ethelyn's Mistake._ - _Millbank._ - _Edna Browning._ - _West Lawn._ - _Mildred_. - _Forrest House_ (_New_). - -"Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her books - are always entertaining, and she has the rare faculty of enlisting the - sympathy and affections of her readers, and of holding their attention - to her pages with deep and absorbing interest." - - All published uniform with this volume. Price $1.50 each. Sold - everywhere, and sent _free_ by mail on receipt of price. - -BY -G. W. CARLETON & CO., Publishers, -New York. - - - - - - *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY THORNTON *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37467 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may -use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative -works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and -printed and given away - you may do practically _anything_ with public -domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, -especially commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in your possession. If -you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works. Nearly all the individual works -in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting free access to electronic -works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg(tm) works in compliance with -the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg(tm) name -associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this -agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full -Project Gutenberg(tm) License when you share it without charge with -others. - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg(tm) work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with - almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away - or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License - included with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can -be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying -any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a -work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on -the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs -1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg(tm) License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg(tm). - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg(tm) web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(tm) works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works -provided that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg(tm) works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(tm) - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) - works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. -YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, -BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN -PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND -ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR -ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES -EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(tm) -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg(tm) work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(tm) - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(tm)'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg(tm) and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(tm) -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg(tm) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg(tm) eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/37467.zip b/37467.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5aa9256..0000000 --- a/37467.zip +++ /dev/null |