y; and then his voice sunk so low
that only Madge could hear it. "I will go and ask for Lilian to-day."

"God speed you!" said Madge, smiling through her tears; "and papa and I
will go and look at your picture in the Academy."

Anybody who had been in the Royal Academy that morning would have seen a
feeble old man leaning on the arm of his daughter, lingering near the
picture round which every one thronged. Madge was feasting on their
praise of it, and repeating chosen bits to her father, who was very
proud of his son now. It was a happy day to Madge, as she looked at the
picture, and felt that Raymond was worthy of the praise that was
bestowed upon it. She thanked God in her heart that he had spared
Raymond's life, and allowed her to see this day.

[Illustration: IN THE ROYAL ACADEMY.]

Raymond gained Lilian for his wife, but he is "Madge's glory" still.

[Illustration]

TOWN DAISIES.

CHAPTER I.

A LONELY LIFE.

Mr. Valentine Shipton was one of the wealthiest farmers in Dilbury; and
yet every one pitied him. He did not ask them to do so, but they could
not help it, he seemed so lonely and forlorn in the world. Nobody loved
him, unless it might be the big cat which slept by his fireside; and
even she did not care very much about him, so that she was left
undisturbed in the possession of her own corner. Every day Mr. Shipton
walked out and took a survey of his premises, gave directions to his
men, and then returned to his large, old-fashioned, dreary-looking
parlour, and smoked his pipe over the fire in the winter, or in his
front porch in summer. Every Sunday he took down his best hat from its
peg, and his large red Prayer Book from the shelf, and walked to the
village church; but he never spoke to any one either going or returning,
and even the little children shrunk away from him as he passed them.

No one ever came across the threshold of Dilbury Farm, except the
tenants to pay their rent to him, or his men to receive their wages; and
Mr. Shipton never went away except to the neighbouring fairs, and then
he always returned in the evening, looking more moody than ever.

Picture then the astonishment of the old woman called Betty, who cooked
his dinner, when her master, one evening in December, suddenly came into
the kitchen, and taking his pipe from his mouth, said,--"Betty, I'm
going to London to-morrow, and most likely I shall be away for a
fortnight!"

"To London, master! why, that be