them, gradually grew more clean and tidy
for her sake.

"It wasn't for the likes of them gownds to trail through sich truck,"
Bridget O'Donohue said, and so, on the days when Daisy was expected, she
scrubbed the floor, which, until Daisy's advent had not known water for
years, and rubbed and polished the one wooden chair kept sacred for the
lady's use.

Other women, too, caught Biddy's spirit and scrubbed their floors and
their children's faces on the day when Miss McDonald was expected to
call, and when she came her silk dress and pretty shawl were watched
narrowly lest by some chance a speck of dirt should fasten on them, 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 smothered feeling as of a want of something
lost, as her carriage disappeared from view and he lost sight of the
fair face and form which had once been his own.

The world was going well with Guy, for though Dick Trevylian had paid no
part of the 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 a 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 little Daisy asked where
was the lady for whom she was named, and why she did not send her a
doll.

"I