ill give you another lesson."

Shirley was a picture of utter despair. His new sensations almost
overwhelmed him. In one second the dead arteries in his body had leaped
into the fullest life. The touch of that young maiden's lips had
galvanized him. He could not bear to leave her with those mocking words.
But at that moment a voice was heard in the direction of the residence.

"Miss--Dai-sy! Miss--Dai-sy!"

It was Hannibal, who had returned from a drive with Mr. Fern. They could
see him dimly coming across the lawn with the girl's cloak in his hand.
Daisy, with one quick grasp of the fingers that hung close to hers, said
good-night to her companion, and started in the direction of the
servant. If she intended--as seemed probable--to pretend she was out
alone, Roseleaf did not mean to share in that deception, and he followed
close behind her.

"Here I am, Hannibal," called Daisy. "Ah, you have my coat. It was very
kind of you. Has papa come home? I am coming in. I did not think how
late it was."

The negro stopped as he saw the strollers, and knew that they had
undoubtedly been together. What more he suspected no one can say with
certainty. But he threw the cloak upon the grass that bordered the
pathway and turned on his heel without a word.

"Confound his impudence!" exclaimed Roseleaf, when he had recovered
sufficiently from his surprise to speak. "I have a good notion to
follow him and box his ears."

The soft hand of the girl was on his sleeve in a moment.

"Say nothing to him--_please!_" she answered. "He--he is very thoughtful
for me--of my health--and I was careless. Papa must have sent him."

The touch on his arm mollified the young man at once. He tried to make
out the lines of the pretty face that was so near him and yet so far
away.

"We are to study again to-morrow, then," he said, taking up her
statement with an assumed air of gayety. "At what hour?"

But she broke away from him abruptly, and ran into the house without a
word. Hannibal stood in the doorway and Roseleaf thought he
distinguished harsh sounds from the negro's lips; but this seemed so
incredible that he conceived his senses at fault.

Looking at his watch the novelist saw that it was still early enough to
take a stroll by himself and ponder over his new happiness--or misery,
which was it?--under the open sky. It was two hours later that his
latchkey turned in the door, and in that time he had resolved either to
make Daisy Fern his