Rex more deeply.
Daisy was his first love, and he loved her from the first moment their
eyes met, with all the strength of his boyish, passionate nature; so
it is not strange that the thought of possessing her, years sooner
than he should have dared hope, made his young blood stir with ecstasy
even though he knew it was wrong.

"Wealth shall be no barrier between us, Daisy," he cried. "What is all
the wealth in the world compared to love? Do not say that again. Love
outweighs everything. Even though you bid me go away and forget you,
Daisy, I could not do it. I can not live without you."

"Do you really love me so much in so short a time?" she asked,
blushingly.

"My love can not be measured by the length of time I have known you,"
he answered, eagerly. "Why, Daisy, the strongest and deepest love men
have ever felt have come to them suddenly, without warning."

The glamour of love was upon him; he could see no faults in pretty
little artless Daisy. True, she had not been educated abroad like
Pluma, but that did not matter; such a lovely rosebud mouth was made
for kisses, not grammar.

Rex stood in suspense beside her, eagerly watching the conflict going
on in the girl's heart.

"Don't refuse me, Daisy," he cried, "give me the right to protect you
forever from the cold world; let us be married to-night. We will keep
it a secret if you say so. You must--you _must_, Daisy, for I can not
give you up."

Rex was so eager, so earnest, so thoroughly the impassioned lover! His
hands were clinging to her own, his dark, handsome face drooped near
hers, his pleading eyes searching her very soul.

Daisy was young, romantic, and impressible; a thousand thoughts rushed
through her brain; it would be so nice to have a young husband to love
her and care for her like Rex, so handsome and so kind; then, too, she
would have plenty of dresses, as fine as Pluma wore, all lace and
puffs; she might have a carriage and ponies, too; and when she rolled
by the little cottage, Septima, who had always been so cruel to her,
would courtesy to _her_, as she did when Pluma, the haughty young
heiress, passed.

The peachy bloom on her cheeks deepened; with Daisy's thoughtless
clinging nature, her craving for love and protection, her implicit
faith in Rex, who had protected her so nobly at the fete--it is not to
be wondered Rex won the day.

Shyly Daisy raised her blue eyes to his face--and he read a shy, sweet
consent that thrilled his ver