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author: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-03-03 05:19:07 -0800
committer: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-03-03 05:19:07 -0800
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+<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>
+</div>
+<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
+</div>
+<div class="container" id="pg-produced-by">
+<p class="noindent pfirst">Produced by Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>.</p>
+<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost">
+<div class="line">BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES,</div>
+</div>
+<div class="center large line-block noindent outermost">
+<div class="line">AUTHOR OF</div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Tempest and Sunshine.—'Lena Rivers.—Darkness and Daylight.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">—Marian Grey.—English Orphans.—Hugh Worthington.—Millbank.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">—Ethelyn's Mistake.—Edna Browning, Etc., Etc.</span></div>
+</div>
+<blockquote class="center large"><div>
+<p class="pfirst">"Those whom God has joined together let no man put asunder."</p>
+</div></blockquote>
+<div class="center line-block medium noindent outermost">
+<div class="line">NEW YORK:</div>
+<div class="line">Copyright, 1878, by</div>
+<div class="line"><em class="italics">G. W. Carleton &amp; Co., Publishers</em>.</div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line">LONDON: S. LOW &amp; CO.</div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line">MDCCCLXXX.</div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Samuel Stodder</span>,</div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Stereotyper</span>,</div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">90 Ann Street, N.Y.</span></div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Trow</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Printing and Bookbinding</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Company.</span></div>
+</div>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<div class="contents level-2 section" id="id1">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">CONTENTS</h2>
+<ul class="compact simple toc-list">
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-i-extracts-from-miss-frances-thornton-s-journal" id="id2">CHAPTER I.—EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ii-extracts-from-guy-s-journal" id="id3">CHAPTER II.—EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iii-extracts-from-daisy-s-journal" id="id4">CHAPTER III.—EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iv-author-s-story" id="id5">CHAPTER IV.—AUTHOR'S STORY.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-v-the-divorce" id="id6">CHAPTER V.—THE DIVORCE.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-vi-extracts-from-diaries" id="id7">CHAPTER VI.—EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-vii-five-years-later" id="id8">CHAPTER VII.—FIVE YEARS LATER.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viii-daisy-s-letter" id="id9">CHAPTER VIII.—DAISY'S LETTER.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ix-daisy-tom-and-that-other-one" id="id10">CHAPTER IX.—DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-x-miss-mcdonald" id="id11">CHAPTER X.—MISS MCDONALD.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xi-at-saratoga" id="id12">CHAPTER XI.—AT SARATOGA.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xii-in-the-sick-room" id="id13">CHAPTER XII.—IN THE SICK ROOM.</a></span></li>
+<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><span class="first"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiii-daisy-s-journal" id="id14">CHAPTER XIII.—DAISY'S JOURNAL.</a></span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="center pfirst x-large">DAISY THORNTON</p>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-i-extracts-from-miss-frances-thornton-s-journal">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id2">CHAPTER I.—EXTRACTS FROM MISS FRANCES THORNTON'S JOURNAL.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst right">Elmwood, June 15th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">all</em> blue, and would Guy
+please furnish the room with drab trimmed with blue?</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">tint</em> of a <em class="italics">shade</em> of drab, or, better yet, a <em class="italics">hint</em>
+of a tint of a shade of drab would describe exactly
+what she meant, and be so entirely unique, and lovely,
+and <em class="italics">recherche</em>.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">September 15th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Why, Guy, I always thought the house was
+brick," I heard her say, as the carriage door was
+opened by the coachman.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"No, darling,—wood. Ah, there's Fan," was Guy's
+reply, and the next moment I had her in my arms.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">tout ensemble</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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. <em class="italics">He</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">five</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ii-extracts-from-guy-s-journal">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id3">CHAPTER II.—EXTRACTS FROM GUY'S JOURNAL.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst right">September 20th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">She <em class="italics">is</em> 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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!</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?</p>
+<p class="pnext">[Here followed several other entries in the journal,
+consisting mostly of rhapsodies on Daisy, and then
+came the following:]</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">December 15th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">Dick <em class="italics">has</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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!"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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!</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iii-extracts-from-daisy-s-journal">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id4">CHAPTER III.—EXTRACTS FROM DAISY'S JOURNAL.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst right">Elmwood, September 20th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">fix</em> things in my mind. I don't
+like things <em class="italics">fixed</em>, 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Tom</em> 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!</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">October 1st, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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!</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Westminster Review</em>, 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.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">December 20th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iv-author-s-story">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id5">CHAPTER IV.—AUTHOR'S STORY.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-v-the-divorce">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id6">CHAPTER V.—THE DIVORCE.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Wait, Mr. Thornton: wait till husband comes—to
+tell you——"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Tell me what!" Guy demanded, feeling sure now
+that something had befallen Daisy.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Daisy, darling, I feared you were sick," he cried,
+nearly smothering her with his caresses.</p>
+<p class="pnext">But Daisy writhed herself away from him, and
+putting up her hands to keep him off, cried out:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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!"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">Then, turning to Guy, he continued:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Come in here, Mr. Thornton, where we can be
+alone while I explain to you what seems so mysterious
+now."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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——</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>, for I charge it all
+to <em class="italics">you</em>. 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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Yes he will, father. If Guy wants to see me, he
+shall."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What is it, Guy what is it you wish to say to
+me?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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
+<em class="italics">Tom</em>, or that old Chicago man; they would not have
+felt so badly, and I'd rather hurt them than you."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>!" 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 <em class="italics">villain</em>! and Daisy is"——His white
+lips quivered a little as he hesitated a moment, and
+then added: "Daisy <em class="italics">was</em> my wife."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-vi-extracts-from-diaries">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id7">CHAPTER VI.—EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES.</a></h2>
+<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">Extract 1st.—Mr. McDonald's.</em></p>
+<p class="pnext right">May ——.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">me</em> 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 <em class="italics">Tom</em>
+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.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">Extract 2nd.—Miss Thornton's Diary.</em></p>
+<p class="pnext right">June 30th, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What is it, Guy, and where is Daisy?" I asked,
+as he staggered against the bannister, where he
+leaned heavily.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"It is not Julia. <em class="italics">It's I.</em>"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Miss McDonald</em>," I said, laying great stress on
+the name, "why are you here, and how did you dare
+come?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"I <em class="italics">was</em> 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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"I do not quite understand it all, or what you
+wish me to do."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Do?" I replied. "I want you to leave this
+house immediately,—<em class="italics">now</em>, 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">I think I must have been crazy with mad excitement,
+and her answer made me worse.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"You were not afraid to come here," I said.
+"You can go from here as well. Thunder will not
+hurt such as you."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">'scats</em> 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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">She spoke the word softly and hesitatingly, while
+a faint flush showed on her otherwise white face.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">settlement</em>, 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Tell Guy, please," she continued, "what I have
+done, and that I never meant to take it, after—after—<em class="italics">that</em>,—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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Stay, Daisy, I cannot let you go alone. Miss
+Hamilton will watch with Guy while I go with
+you."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"But do <em class="italics">you</em> 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">It was Fanny again, and she grasped my hand
+nervously, for the train was upon us.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">August 1st, ——.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Poor Daisy, did she get very wet? She is so
+delicate, you know. I hope it did not make her
+sick."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst right">August 30th, ——.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">could</em>
+forget her, we might be very happy again, as Heaven
+grant we may.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-vii-five-years-later">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id8">CHAPTER VII.—FIVE YEARS LATER.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">was</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<blockquote><div>
+<div class="line-block outermost">
+<div class="inner line-block">
+<div class="line">"<span class="small-caps">Guy Thornton, Esq.</span>,</div>
+<div class="inner line-block">
+<div class="line">"Brown Cottage,</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class="line">"Politeness of Mr. Wilkes.      Cuylerville, Mass."</div>
+</div>
+</div></blockquote>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">But he did not tear it up. He opened it, and
+another chapter will tell us what he read.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viii-daisy-s-letter">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id9">CHAPTER VIII.—DAISY'S LETTER.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">It was dated at Rouen, France, and it ran as
+follows:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"<span class="small-caps">Dear, Dear Guy</span>:—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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>; believe me, Guy, just
+to please <em class="italics">you</em>. 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">divorce</em>
+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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Truly, lovingly, waitingly, your wife,</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"<span class="small-caps">Daisy</span>."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"Again, lovingly,  <span class="small-caps">Daisy Thornton</span>."</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Guy, Guy, what is it? Are you sick?" she
+asked, alarmed at the pallor of his face and the
+strange expression of his eyes.</p>
+<p class="pnext">He was glad she had thus construed his agitation,
+and he answered that he was faint and a little sick.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Is it your heart, Guy? Do you think it is your
+heart?" she continued, as she rubbed and caressed his
+cold, clammy hand.</p>
+<p class="pnext">A shadow of pain or remorse flitted across Guy's
+face as he replied:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"I think it is my heart, but I assure you there is no
+danger,—the worst is over. I am a great deal better."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"And Daisy?" something whispered in his ear.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Better so than to write," he thought; though he
+longed to add the words, "Forgive me, Daisy; your
+letter came too late."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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;</p>
+<p class="pnext">"I never loved you half as well as I do now!"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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;</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Would you object to Margaret?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ix-daisy-tom-and-that-other-one">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id10">CHAPTER IX.—DAISY, TOM, AND THAT OTHER ONE.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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!"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Oh, you are sick, I must bring some water,"
+Pauline exclaimed, alarmed at Daisy's white face and
+the peculiar tone of her voice.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">Pauline had not thought of that,—she would see;
+and she hunted through the columns till she found
+Guy's pencil mark, and read:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">It was natural enough question, and Daisy roused
+herself to answer it, and said, quickly: "He is the
+son of my husband's father."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Oh, <em class="italics">oui</em>," 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What date is the paper?" Daisy asked, and on
+being told she said softly to herself: "I see; it was
+too late."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"It reached him too late—too late, and I am so
+sorry."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"I thought so," he rejoined, "and it aggravates all
+the symptoms of her fever. I shall call again to-night."</p>
+<p class="pnext">He did call, and found his patient worse, and the
+next day he asked of Madame Lafarcade:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Has she friends in this country? If so, they
+ought to know."</p>
+<p class="pnext">A few hours later and in his lodgings at Berlin,
+Tom read the following dispatch:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Mrs. Thornton is dangerously ill. Come at
+once."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Don't talk any more, Daisy; it tires you so," he
+said, as he saw her about to speak again.</p>
+<p class="pnext">But Daisy was not to be stopped, and she went on:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"He doesn't expect it now, or want it," came
+huskily from Tom, while Daisy quickly asked:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Doesn't he?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"It does not matter for me. I would rather die
+than not."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What is it? Where am I?" he asked, and Daisy
+replied:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">At first there were low whisperings and incoherent
+mutterings, and when Daisy asked him to whom he
+was talking he answered:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">Those were terrible days for Daisy, but she never
+left her post, and stood resolutely between the sick
+man and <em class="italics">that other one</em> 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"God bless you, darling! I am going home!
+Good-bye."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-x-miss-mcdonald">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id11">CHAPTER X.—MISS MCDONALD.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">In her sorrow and loneliness, Daisy was fast sinking
+into an unhealthy morbid state of mind from
+which nothing seemed to rouse her.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sake-name</em>, the young lady said:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">The little girl's fancy was caught at once with the
+idea, and the following letter was the result:</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"<span class="small-caps">Brown Cottage</span>, 'Most Tissmas time.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"<span class="small-caps">Dear Miss Mac-Dolly</span>:—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.</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"Yours, respectfully, "<span class="small-caps">Daisy Thornton</span>."</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Oh, how nice this is, and how tired and cold I
+am!" she said, as she bent over the blazing fire.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"<span class="small-caps">Cuylerville</span>, Dec., 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"<span class="small-caps">Dear Miss McDonald</span>:—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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">retrousse</em>. 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 <em class="italics">Miss Mac-Dolly</em>,
+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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Again forgive me if I have done wrong, and believe me, as ever,</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"Yours, sincerely, "<span class="small-caps">Ella Barker</span>."</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">her</em>, 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="pfirst">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">There was a letter lying on the top which he
+handed to Julia, who steadied her voice to read
+aloud:</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"New York, December 22, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Darling little <em class="italics">sake-name</em> <span class="small-caps">Daisy</span>:—Your letter made Miss
+Mack-Dolly very happy, and she is so glad to send you the doll with a
+<em class="italics">shash</em>, 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</p>
+<p class="pnext right">"<span class="small-caps">Miss McDonald</span>."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Oh, isn't she dood, and don't you love her,
+papa?" she said, while Guy replied:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Yes, it was certainly very kind in her, and generous.
+No other little girl in town will have such a
+box as this."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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:</p>
+<blockquote><div>
+<p class="pfirst">"Truly, <span class="small-caps">Mrs. Guy Thornton</span>."</p>
+</div></blockquote>
+<p class="pfirst">Not Julia, but Mrs. Guy, and that hurt Daisy more
+than anything else.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">impertinence</em> 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."</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xi-at-saratoga">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id12">CHAPTER XI.—AT SARATOGA.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Come, please, come quick," she said, in a whisper;
+and following her out, Miss McDonald asked what was
+the matter.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">This</em>, 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"He do call it the <em class="italics">very-o-lord</em>," Sarah said, "but
+Mary says it's the <em class="italics">very old one</em> 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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What did you call the gentleman?" Miss McDonald
+asked, her voice faltering and her cheek
+blanching a little.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Mr. and Mrs. Guy Thornton, two children and
+servant. No. -- and --."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"The points are still distinct. I should say the
+vaccination was thorough."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"But another will be safer. Have you fresh matter?"
+Daisy asked, and he replied:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">He was going on further with his discussion, when
+Daisy, who knew his peculiarities, interrupted him.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Never mind the lecture now. Vaccinate me
+quick, and let me go."</p>
+<p class="pnext">It was soon done; the doctor saying, as he put
+away his vial:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"You were safe without it, I think, and with it you
+may have no fears whatever."</p>
+<p class="pnext">He looked at her curiously again as if asking what
+she knew or feared, and observing the look, Daisy said
+to him:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Do you attend the lady at the hotel?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">He bowed affirmatively and glanced uneasily at
+Sarah, who was looking on in surprise.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Is she very sick?" was the next inquiry.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Yes, very sick."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"And does no one care for her but her husband?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"No one."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Has she suffered for care,—a woman's care, I
+mean?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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——"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Cain</em> generally."</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">Meanwhile, Daisy had reached the hotel, and without
+going to her own room, bade Sarah tell her the
+way to No. —.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"What! Oh, Miss McDonald! You surely are
+not——" Sarah gasped, clutching at the dress, which
+her mistress took from her grasp, saying:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xii-in-the-sick-room">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id13">CHAPTER XII.—IN THE SICK ROOM.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst">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
+<em class="italics">had</em> 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">that other one</em>, tell her,—tell her,—I——"</p>
+<p class="pnext">The faint voice faltered here, and when it spoke
+again, it said:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"Lift me up, Guy, so I can breathe better while I
+tell you."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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:</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiii-daisy-s-journal">
+<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id14">CHAPTER XIII.—DAISY'S JOURNAL.</a></h2>
+<p class="pfirst right"><span class="small-caps">New York</span>, June 14, 18—.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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?"</p>
+<p class="pnext">I was not surprised. I knew he would say it sometime,
+and I replied at once, "Yes, Guy, I will."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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</p>
+<p class="pnext right"><span class="small-caps">Margaret McDonald</span>.</p>
+<hr class="docutils"/>
+<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics">Extracts from Miss Frances Thornton's Diary.</em></p>
+<p class="pnext right"><span class="small-caps">Elmwood</span>, June 15th, —.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">ten
+cents</em>, and the <em class="italics">five cents</em>, and the <em class="italics">three cents</em>, and the
+<em class="italics">one cent</em>, 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.</p>
+<p class="pnext">May God bless them and keep them always as they
+are now, at peace with Him and all in all to each
+other.</p>
+<div class="center level-3 section" id="the-end">
+<h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title">THE END.</h3>
+<p class="pfirst x-large">POPULAR NOVELS BY <em class="italics">MRS. MARY J. HOLMES.</em></p>
+<blockquote><div>
+<div class="line-block outermost">
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Tempest and Sunshine.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">English Orphans.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Homestead on Hillside.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">'Lena Rivers.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Meadow Brook.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Dora Deane.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Cousin Maude.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Marian Grey.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Edith Lyle.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Daisy Thornton.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Chateau d'Or</span> (<em class="italics">New</em>).</div>
+<div class="line"> </div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Darkness and Daylight.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Hugh Worthington.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Cameron Pride.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Rose Mather.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Ethelyn's Mistake.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Millbank.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Edna Browning.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">West Lawn.</span></div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Mildred</span>.</div>
+<div class="line"><span class="small-caps">Forrest House</span> (<em class="italics">New</em>).</div>
+</div>
+</div></blockquote>
+<p class="pfirst">"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."</p>
+<p class="pnext">All published uniform with this volume. Price $1.50
+each. Sold everywhere, and sent <em class="italics">free</em>
+by mail on receipt of price.</p>
+<div class="line-block outermost small">
+<div class="line">BY</div>
+<div class="line">G. W. CARLETON &amp; CO., Publishers,</div>
+<div class="line">New York.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="vspace" style="height: 5em">
+</div>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37467 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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