r wonder. Ah! had she but known!

While Pluma, the wealthy heiress, awaited his coming so eagerly, Rex
Lyon was standing, quite lost in thought, beside a rippling fountain
in one of the most remote parts of the lawn, thinking of Daisy Brooks.
He had seen a fair face--that was all--a face that embodied his dream
of loveliness, and without thinking of it found his fate, and the
whole world seemed changed for him.

Handsome, impulsive Rex Lyon, owner of several of the most extensive
and lucrative orange groves in Florida, would have bartered every
dollar of his worldly possessions for love.

He had hitherto treated all notion of love in a very off-hand,
cavalier fashion.

"Love is fate," he had always said. He knew Pluma loved him. Last
night he had said to himself: The time had come when he might as well
marry; it might as well be Pluma as any one else, seeing she cared so
much for him. Now all that was changed. "I sincerely hope she will not
attach undue significance to the words I spoke last evening," he
mused.

Rex did not care to return again among the throng; it was sweeter far
to sit there by the murmuring fountain dreaming of Daisy Brooks, and
wondering when he should see her again. A throng which did not hold
the face of Daisy Brooks had no charm for Rex.

Suddenly a soft step sounded on the grass; Rex's heart gave a sudden
bound; surely it could not be--yes, it was--Daisy Brooks.

She drew back with a startled cry as her eyes suddenly encountered
those of her hero of the morning. She would have fled precipitately
had he not stretched out his hand quickly to detain her.

"Daisy," cried Rex, "why do you look so frightened? Are you displeased
to see me?"

"No," she said. "I--I--do not know--"

She looked so pretty, so bewildered, so dazzled by joy, yet so
pitifully uncertain, Rex was more desperately in love with her than
ever.

"Your eyes speak, telling me you _are_ pleased, Daisy, even if your
lips _refuse_ to tell me so. Sit down on this rustic bench, Daisy,
while I tell you how anxiously I awaited your coming--waited until the
shadows of evening fell."

As he talked to her he grew more interested with every moment. She
had no keen intellect, no graceful powers of repartee, knew little of
books or the great world beyond. Daisy was a simple, guileless child
of nature.

Rex's vanity was gratified at the unconscious admiration which shone
in her eyes and the blushes his words brought to her cheeks.