round. But Julia was not with
them. She will never come to us again. Julia is dead, and her grave is
off 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 in Heaven and Daisy is here again at Elmwood, which she
purchased with her own money and fitted up with every possible
convenience and luxury.

Guy is ten years younger than he used to be, and we are all so happy
with this little fairy, who has expanded into a noble woman, and whom I
love as I never loved a living being before, Guy excepted, of course. I
never dreamed when I turned her out into the rain that I should love her
as I do, or that she was capable of being what she is. I would not have
her changed in any one particular, and neither, I am sure, would Guy,
while the little ones fairly worship her, and must sometimes be
troublesome with their love and their caresses.

It is just a year since she came back to us again. We were in the old
house then, but somehow Daisy's very presence seemed to brighten and
beautify it, until I was almost sorry to leave it last April for this
grander place with all its splendor.

There was no wedding at all; that is, there were no invited guests, but
sure, 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 slums 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 had written upon
the fly leaf: "To the dearest friend we ever had we give this book as a
slight token of how much we love her." Then followed upon a sheet of
paper the names of the donors and how much each gave. Oh, how Daisy
cried when she saw the ten cents and the five cents and the three cents
and the one cent, and knew how it had all been earned and saved at some
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