fell back on her bed again when she
attempted to rise. The thought of the morrow lent strength to her
flagging energies. A strange mist seemed rising before her. Twice she
seemed near fainting, but her indomitable courage kept her from
sinking, as she thought of what the morrow would have in store for
her.

Quietly she counted over the little store in her purse by the moon's
rays.

"Seventy dollars! Oh, I could never use all that in my life!" she
cried. "Besides, I could never touch one cent of Stanwick's money. It
would burn my fingers--I am sure it would!"

Folding the bill carefully in two she placed it beneath her little
snowy ruffled pillow. Then catching up the thick, dark shawl which lay
on an adjacent table, she wrapped it quickly about her. She opened the
door leading out into the hall, and listened. All was still--solemnly
still.

Daisy crept softly down the stairs, and out into the quiet beauty of
the still, summer night.

"Rex," she wailed, softly, "perhaps when I am dead you will feel sorry
for poor little Daisy, and some one may tell you how you have wronged
me in your thoughts, but you would not let me tell you how it
happened!"

In the distance she saw the shimmer of water lying white and still
under the moon's rays, tipped by the silvery light of the stars.

"No, not that way," she cried, with a shudder; "some one might save
me, and I want to die!"

In the distance the red and colored gleaming lights of an apothecary's
shop caught her gaze.

"Yes, that way will be best," she said, reflectively.

She drew the shawl closer about her, pressing on as rapidly as her
feeble little feet would carry her. How weak she was when she turned
the knob and entered--the very lights seemed dancing around her.

A small, keen-eyed, shrewd little man stepped briskly forward to wait
upon her. He started back in horror at the utter despair and woe in
the beautiful young face that was turned for a moment toward him,
beautiful in all its pallor as a statue, with a crown of golden hair
such as pictures of angels wear encircling the perfect head.

"What can I do for you, miss?" queried the apothecary, gazing
searchingly into the beautiful dreamy blue eyes raised up to his and
wondering who she could possibly be.

"I wish to purchase some laudanum," Daisy faltered. "I wish it to
relieve a pain which is greater than I can bear."

"Toothache, most probably?" intimated the brisk little doctor. "I know
what it is.