shady trees that summer morning, his dark curls
resting on his white hand, and a smile lighting up his pleasant face,
it is not to be wondered at he was just the kind of young fellow to
win the love of young romantic girls like Daisy and Pluma--the haughty
young heiress.

Slowly Rex read the letter through to the end. The morning stage
whirled rapidly past him on its way to meet the early train. Yet, all
unconscious that it bore away from him his treasure, he never once
glanced up from the letter he was reading.

Again Rex laughed aloud as he glanced it over, reading as follows:

"DEAR BROTHER REX,--We received the letter you wrote, and the
picture you sent with it, and my heart has been so heavy ever
since that I could not write to you because big tears would fall
on the page and blot it. Now, dear old Brother Rex, don't be angry
at what your little Birdie is going to say. Mamma says you are
going to marry and bring home a wife, and she showed me her
picture, and said you was very much in love with her, and I must
be so too. But I can't fall in love with her, Brother Rex; indeed,
I've tried very hard and I can't; don't tell anybody, but I'm
awfully afraid I sha'n't like her one bit. She looks stylish, and
her name Pluma sounds real stylish too, but she don't look kind. I
thought, perhaps, if I told you I did not like her you might give
her up and come home. I forgot to tell you the blue room and the
room across the hall is being fixed up for you just lovely, and I
am to have your old one.

"P.S.--And we received a letter from Mr. Lester Stanwick, too. He
says he will be passing through here soon and wishes to call. When
are you coming home, Rex? Don't bring any one with you.

"Your loving little sister,
"BIRDIE."

"There's no fear of my bringing Pluma home now," he laughed, whistling
a snatch of "The Pages' Chorus." "Birdie won't have anything to fear
on that score. I do wish mother hadn't set my heart on my marrying
Pluma. Parents make a mistake in choosing whom their children shall
marry and whom they shall not. Love goes where it is sent."

He looked at his watch again.

"By George!" he muttered, turning very pale upon seeing another hour
had slipped away, "I can not stand this a minute longer. I _must_ see
what has happened to Daisy."

With a nameless fear clutching at his heart--a