erest himself in her somewhat childish chatter, and made her so happy
by his mere presence that her face was shining with smiles. Transfigured
by love and by gratified vanity, Daisy looked really pretty, and in her
heart was scornful of poor Anne thus left out in the cold. She concluded
that Giles loved her best after all, and did not see how he every now
and then stealthily glanced at the governess wearily striving to
interest herself in the breezy conversation of Morley or the domestic
chatter of his wife. In her heart Anne had felt a pang at this
desertion, although she knew that it was perfectly justifiable, and
unable to bear the sight of Daisy's brilliant face, she retired thus
early.

She loved Giles. It was no use blinking the fact. She loved him with
every fibre of her nature, and with a passion far stronger than could be
felt for him by the golden-haired doll with the shallow eyes. For Giles
she would have lost the world, but she would not have him lose his for
her. And, after all, she had no right to creep like a serpent into the
Eden of silly, prattling Daisy. In her own puny way the child--for she
was little else--adored Giles, and as he was her affianced lover it
would be base to come between her and her god. But Anne knew in her
heart that Giles loved her best. If she did but lift her hand he would
leave all and follow her to the world's end. But lift her hand she would
not. It would be too cruel to break the butterfly Daisy on such a
painful wheel. Anne loved sufficiently to be large and generous in her
nature, and therefore broke her own heart to spare the breaking of
another woman's. Certainly Giles was as unhappy as she was; that was
patent in his looks and bearing. But he had forged his own chains, and
could not break them without dishonor. And come what may, Giles would
always love her best.

Anne's meditations were disturbed by a knock at the door. Glancing at
the clock, she saw it was close on midnight, and wondering who wished to
see her at so late an hour, she opened the door. Daisy, in a blue
dressing-gown, with her golden hair loose and her face flushed, entered
the room. She skipped towards Anne with a happy laugh, and threw her
arms round her neck.

"I could not sleep without telling you how happy I am," she said, and
with a look of triumph displayed the ring.

Anne's heart beat violently at this visible sign of the barrier between
her and Giles. However, she was too clever a woman to be