into the dark rings of hair lying on his white
forehead.

Mr. Tudor was decidedly amazed. He could not realize how any sane
young woman could leave so handsome a young fellow as the one before
him. In most cases the shoe was on the other foot; but he was too
thoroughly master of his business to express surprise in his face. He
merely said:

"Go on, sir; go on!"

And Rex did go on, never sparing himself in describing how he urged
Daisy to marry him on the night of the fete, and of their parting, and
the solemn promise to meet on the morrow, and of his wild grief--more
bitter than death--when he had found the cottage empty.

"It reads like the page of a romance," said Rex, with a dreary smile,
leaning his head on his white hand. "But I must find her!" he cried,
with energy. "I shall search the world over for her. If it takes every
cent of my fortune, I shall find Daisy!"

Rex looked out of the window at the soft, fleecy clouds overhead,
little dreaming Daisy was watching those self-same clouds, scarcely a
stone's throw from the very spot where he sat, and at that moment he
was nearer Daisy than he would be for perhaps years again, for the
strong hand of Fate was slowly but surely drifting them asunder.

For some moments neither spoke.

"Perhaps," said Mr. Tudor, breaking the silence, "there was a previous
lover in the case?"

"I am sure there was not!" said Rex, eagerly.

Still the idea was new to him. He adored Daisy with a mad, idolatrous
adoration, almost amounting to worship, and a love so intense is
susceptible to the poisonous breath of jealousy, and jealousy ran in
Rex's veins. He could not endure the thought of Daisy's--his
Daisy's--eyes brightening or her cheek flushing at the approach of a
rival--that fair, flower-like face, sweet and innocent as a
child's--Daisy, whom he so madly loved.

"Well," said Mr. Tudor, as Rex arose to depart, "I will do all I can
for you. Leave your address, please, in case I should wish to
communicate with you."

"I think I shall go back to Allendale, remaining there at least a
month or so. I have a strong conviction Daisy might come back, or at
least write to me there."

Mr. Tudor jotted down the address, feeling actually sorry for the
handsome young husband clinging to such a frail straw of hope. In his
own mind, long before Rex had concluded his story, he had settled his
opinion--that from some cause the young wife had fled from him with
some rival, bitterly repen