on the cheek with the
palm of it.

Then, before he surmised what she intended, she ran brightly up the
steps of the house and vanished.

CHAPTER IX.

"DAISY, MY DARLING!"

It was Roseleaf's full intention to say something about this adventure
to his instructor in the art of love, Mr. Archie Weil, but somehow he
was not able to summon the requisite courage. He had a delicate sense
that such a thing ought not to be repeated, where it might by any
possibility bring a laugh. And about this time the novelist's attention
began to be attracted toward the younger sister, who had till then
almost entirely escaped his observation.

He noticed particularly the ceaseless devotion that the black servant of
the family exhibited toward her. She might have been a goddess and he a
devotee; a queen and he her slave. Hannibal moved about the girl like
her very shadow, ready to anticipate her slightest wants, while Daisy
seemed to take this excess of attention as a matter of course.

Millicent constantly showed her dislike for the servant.

"I don't see how you can endure to have him touch you," she said to
Daisy. "He knows better than to lay his hands on me. I have told papa
often that I want him discharged, and he ought to consider my wishes a
little."

To this Daisy answered that the boy, as she persisted in calling the
giant, meant well and was certainly intelligent. Her father did not like
to change servants, for it took him a long time to get used to new
ones. So Millicent tossed her head, returned to her collaboration with
Mr. Roseleaf, and things went on as usual.

Imperceptibly Shirley began to take an interest in Daisy. She did not
run away from him, and he discovered, much to his surprise, that she was
worth talking to. She was not exactly the child he had supposed, and she
had the full value of her eighteen years in her pretty head. He got into
the habit of taking short strolls with her, on evenings when Millicent
was occupied with Archie, and when, as often happened, Mr. Fern was away
with Hannibal in the city. There was a sequestered nook at the far end
of the lawn, in which the pair found retreat. Before he realized it,
Roseleaf had developed a genuine liking for these rambles, and was
pleased when the evenings came that brought Mr. Weil to dinner.

Daisy was ingenuous, to a degree, if surface indications counted for
anything. The words that flowed from her red lips were as unstudied as
the pretty attit