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Daisy flushed as rosy as the crimson geraniums near them, remembering Rex, her own handsome Rex, had said the same thing that morning he had carried her heavy basket to the gates of Whitestone Hall that morning when all the world seemed to change as she glanced up into his merry brown eyes. "We are to be room-mates," explained Sara, "and I know I shall like you ever so much.
The master of Whitestone Hall always kept a file of the Baltimore papers; he rapidly ran his eye down the different columns. "Ah, here is what I want," he exclaimed, stopping short. "Messrs. Tudor, Peck & Co., Experienced Detectives, Street, Baltimore. They are noted for their skill. I will give the case into their hands.
"The conditions were I should marry the bride whom my mother selected for me. I was as much startled as you will be, Daisy, when you hear who it was Pluma Hurlhurst, of Whitestone Hall." "But you can not marry her now, Rex," whispered the little child-bride, nestling closer in his embrace. "No; nor I would not if I could. I love you the best, my pretty wild flower.
South of the Whitestone Pond is the Hampstead water reservoir, and near it beds of flowers, rhododendron bushes, etc., are neatly laid out. Almost immediately opposite is a quiet, dark-coloured little brick house, with area steps descending in front and the entrance on the north.
No one remembered having seen her but once, quite five years before. A beautiful woman with a little babe had suddenly appeared at Whitestone Hall, announcing herself as Basil Hurlhurst's wife.
For a single instant their eyes met these two girls, whose lives were to cross each other so strangely poor Daisy, like a frightened bird, as she guessed intuitively at the identity of the other; Pluma, haughty, derisive, and scornfully mocking. "You are the person whom Miss Brooks sent to Whitestone Hall with my mull dresses some three hours since, I presume. May I ask what detained you?"
Rex could scarcely repress an exclamation of surprise as he saw the occupant was his young hostess, Pluma Hurlhurst of Whitestone Hall.
"I found Basil had learned to despise even more fiercely than he had ever loved me. "He took us abroad, refusing to speak or look upon my face, even though he escorted us. In a fit of desperation I threw myself into the sea, but I was rescued by another vessel. A strong inclination seized me to again visit Whitestone Hall and see what disposition he had made of you.
"I dared not betray my identity then, but fled quickly from Whitestone Hall; for I knew, if all came to light, it would be proved without a doubt you were not the heiress of Whitestone Hall. "I saw a young girl, blue-eyed and golden-haired, singing like a lark in the fields. One glance at her face, and I knew she was Basil Hurlhurst's stolen child fate had brought directly to her father's home.
He had never intended speaking those words; but she goaded him on to it with her taunting, scornful smile, reminding him so bitterly of the one great error of his past life. He was little like the kind, courteous master of Whitestone Hall, whom none named but to praise, as he stood there watching the immovable face of his daughter. All the bitterness of his nature was by passion rocked.
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