it
in his hands.

He ran his eyes quickly over the page. The postscript seemed to
enlighten him.

"The course of true love never runs smooth," it ran, "and I beseech
you, Pluma dear, if anything should ever happen, any shadow fall upon
your love, I beseech you send for Rex and place this letter in his
hands. It would not be unwomanly, Pluma, because I, his mother, so
earnestly request it; for, on your love for each other hangs my hopes
of happiness. Rex is impulsive and willful, but he will respect his
mother's wishes."

No thought of treachery ever crossed Rex's mind as he read the lines
before him; he never once dreamed the ingeniously worded postscript
had been so cleverly imitated and added by Pluma's own hand. It never
occurred to him for an instant to doubt the sincerity of the words he
read, when he knew how dearly his mother loved the proud, haughty
heiress before him.

"I heard you were going away, Rex," she said, softly, "and I--I could
not let you go so, and break my own heart."

"In one sense, I am glad you sent for me," said Rex, quietly ignoring
her last remark. "I shall be much pleased to renew our friendship,
Miss Pluma, for I need your friendship--nay, more, I need your
sympathy and advice more than I can express. I have always endeavored
to be frank with you, Pluma," he said, kindly. "I have never spoken
words which might lead you to believe I loved you."

He saw her face grow white under his earnest gaze and the white lace
on her bosom rise and fall convulsively, yet she made him no answer.

"Please permit me to tell you why, Pluma," he said, taking her hand
and leading her to a sofa, taking a seat by her side. "I could not,"
he continued, "in justice to either you or myself; for I never knew
what love was," he said, softly, "until the night of the fete." Again
he paused; but, as no answer was vouchsafed him, he went on: "I never
knew what love meant until I met Daisy--little Daisy Brooks."

"Rex!" cried Pluma, starting to her feet, "you know not what you
say--surely you do not know! I would have warned you, but you would
not listen. I saw you drifting toward a yawning chasm; I stretched out
my arms to save you, but you would not heed me. You are a stranger to
the people around here, Rex, or they would have warned you. Sin is
never so alluring as in the guise of a beautiful woman. It is not too
late yet. Forget Daisy Brooks; she is not a fit companion for noble
Rex Lyon, or pure enough to k