understand. The late Kent and the late Ware," explained Mrs. Parry, who
always spoke thus politely of men, "were the greatest of friends, which
I can well understand, as each was an idiot. However, Ware died first
and left his estate to Giles. A few months later Kent died and made
Morley the guardian of his daughter Daisy, already contracted to be
married to Giles."

"Does he love her?"

"Oh, he's fond of her in a way, and he is anxious to obey the last wish
of his father. But it seems to me that he is more in love with that
black cat."

"Hush! You will be heard."

Mrs. Parry snorted. "I hope so, and by the cat herself," she said
grimly. "I can't bear the woman. If I were Mrs. Morley I'd have her out
of the house in ten minutes. Turn her out in the snow to cool her hot
blood. What right has she to attract Ware and make him neglect that dear
angel over there? See, yonder is Daisy. There's a face, there's charm,
there's hair!" finished Mrs. Parry, quite unconscious that she was using
the latest London slang. "I call her a lovely creature."

Mrs. McKail did not agree with her venomous cousin. Daisy was a
washed-out blonde with large blue eyes and a slack mouth. Under a hot
July sky and with a flush of color she would have indeed been pretty;
but the cold of winter and the neglect of Giles Ware shrivelled her up.
In spite of the warmth of the room, the gaiety of the scene, she looked
pinched and older than her years. But there was some sort of character
in her face, for Mrs. McKail caught her directing a glance full of
hatred at the governess. In spite of her ethereal prettiness, Daisy Kent
was a good hater. Mrs. McKail felt sure of that. "And she is much more
of the cat type than the other one is," thought the observant lady, too
wise to speak openly.

However, Mrs. Parry still continued to destroy a character every time
she opened her mouth. She called the rector a Papist; hinted that the
doctor's wife was no better than she should be; announced that Morley
owed money to his tradesmen, that he had squandered his wife's fortune;
and finally wound up by saying that he would spend Daisy Kent's money
when he got it. "If it ever does come to her," finished this amiable
person.

"Did her father leave her money?" asked Mrs. McKail.

"He!" snapped the other; "my dear, he was as poor as a church mouse, and
left Daisy only a hundred a year to live on. That is the one decent
thing about Morley. He did take Daisy in, and h