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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Daisy," he said, bending over her and lifting the slight form in his arms, "they tell me some one has been troubling you. Who has dared annoy you? Trust in me, Daisy. What is the matter?" Lester Stanwick never forgot the white, pitiful face that was raised to his. "I want to die," she sobbed. "Oh, why did you not leave me to die in the dark water? it was so cruel of you to save me."
In one single instant all the dim, horrible past rushed back to Daisy's mind. She remembered flinging herself down in the clover-scented grass, and the world growing dark around her, as the terrible words of Stanwick rang in her ears he would be back in just fifteen minutes to claim her.
He turned to the Captain, and said, good-humoredly: "You see the compass was right." Captain Stanwick, answered, sharply: "There are more ways than one out of an English wood; you talk as if we were in one of your American forests." Mr. Varleigh seemed to be at a loss to understand his rudeness; there was a pause.
We are practicing for a coming charade," explained Stanwick, laughingly; "and, judging from the expressions depicted on our friend's faces, I should say you have drawn largely upon real life. You will be a success, Miss Pluma." No one dreamed of doubting the assertion. A general laugh followed, and the music struck up again, and the gay mirth of the fête resumed its sway.
She looks stylish, and her name Pluma sounds real stylish too, but she don't look kind. I thought, perhaps, if I told you I did not like her you might give her up and come home. I forgot to tell you the blue room and the room across the hall is being fixed up for you just lovely, and I am to have your old one. "P.S. And we received a letter from Mr. Lester Stanwick, too.
It would be ridiculously easy; they would drive to Stanwick in the buggy. "The hotels and all," she continued with shining eyes; "and nobody will think it's queer. I'll be your daughter, like always." Calvin turned abruptly from her and faced the valley saturated with slumberous sunlight. Lucy hesitated for a moment and then fled lightly into the house.
"Do you want to know why I risked my life to save you, Daisy? Does not my every word and glance tell you why?" The bold glance in his eyes spoke volumes. "Have you not guessed that I love you, Daisy?" "Oh, please do not talk to me in that way, Mr. Stanwick," she cried, starting to her feet in wild alarm. "Indeed you must not," she stammered.
"From Stanwick!" he cried, leaning heavily against the mantel. Rex read the letter through with a burning flush on his face, which grew white as with the pallor of death as he read; a dark mist was before his eyes, the sound of surging waters in his ears.
"My last ray of hope has died out," she cried as the memory of his cruel words came slowly back to her, so mockingly uttered "the minister would be none the wiser he is blind." When Lester Stanwick returned to the cottage he found that quite an unexpected turn of events had transpired. Miss Burton had gone out to Daisy she lay so still and lifeless in the long green grass.
"Leave me to myself, and I will get up." "Very well," said Stanwick, involuntarily raising her little white hands courteously to his lips; "and remember, I warn you, for your own sake, not to dispute the assertion I have made that you are my wife." "Why?" asked Daisy, wistfully. "They will forgive me when I tell them how it all came about." "You do not know women's ways," he replied.
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