ou mean by this secret to which you allude so
often?" she asked, suddenly.

"Please do not ask me, madame," sobbed Daisy; "I can not tell
you--indeed I can not. I dare not!"

An alarming thought occurred to madame.

"Speak, girl!" she cried, hoarsely, grasping her firmly by the
shoulder. "I must know the meaning of this secret which is so
appalling. You fear to reveal it! Does your guardian know of it?"

"No--o!" wailed Daisy; "I could not tell him. I must keep the
secret."

Poor little innocent Daisy! her own words had convicted her beyond all
pardon in the eyes of shrewd, suspicious Mme. Whitney, who guessed, as
is usually the case, wide of the mark, as to the cause of the secret
Daisy dare not to reveal to her guardian or herself.

"My duty is plain in this case," said madame. "I shall read this as a
terrible warning to the young ladies of this institution; then I will
send for Mr. John Brooks, your guardian, and place this letter in his
hands."

"Oh, no, madame, in pity's name, no!" sobbed Daisy, wildly, kneeling
imploringly at her feet, her heart beating tumultuously, and her hands
locked convulsively together. "Do not, madame, I pray you; anything
but that; he would cast me out of his heart and home, and I--I could
not go to Rex, you see."

But madame did not see. She laughed a little hard, metallic laugh that
grated, oh, so cruelly, on Daisy's sensitive nerves.

When one woman's suspicions are aroused against another, Heaven help
the suspected one; there is little mercy shown her.

"Man's inhumanity to man" is nothing compared to woman's inhumanity to
woman.

Mme. Whitney had discovered a capital way to score a hit in the
direction of morality.

"No," she said, laying the letter down on the table before her. "Arise
from your knees, Miss Brooks. Your prayers are useless. I think this
will be a life-long lesson to you."

"Oh, madame, for the love of Heaven!" cried Daisy, rocking herself to
and fro, "spare me, I beseech you! Can nothing alter your purpose?"

"Well," said madame, reflectively, "I may not be quite so severe with
you if you will confess, unreservedly, the whole truth concerning this
terrible secret, and what this young man Rex is to you."

"I can not," wailed Daisy, "I can not. Oh, my heart is breaking, yet I
dare not."

"Very well," said madame, rising, indicating the conversation was at
an end, "I shall not press you further on the subject. I will excuse
you now, Miss Brooks. Yo