wife or commit suicide in the most expeditious
fashion.

CHAPTER X

"OH, SO MANY, MANY MAIDS!"

The only disagreeable thing about falling in love with Daisy was that
Roseleaf felt compelled to reveal the truth to Archie Weil. He believed
he was bound to do this by a solemn contract which he had no moral right
to ignore. Perhaps Weil might claim that he had no business to fall in
love with one sister when his "manager" had picked out the other for
this operation. Be that as it may, there was no use in evading the
question. It must be talked over, be the result what it might.

"Well, I know what love is now," was the abrupt way in which the young
man opened the subject on the following afternoon.

He had ridden to the city, as Weil was not expected at the residence of
Mr. Fern that day. The hope he had formed the previous evening of
getting another interview with Daisy had not materialized, she having
gone on some short journey before he could intercept her.

"You do!" was the equally abrupt reply, uttered in a tone that betrayed
undoubted astonishment. "What do you mean?"

Roseleaf reddened.

"It came to me all at once, last evening," he said, avoiding the gaze of
his companion. "We were down at the end of the lawn, you know--"

Archie interrupted him with a sudden shout.

"Not _Daisy_!"

"Yes."

"You are in love with _Daisy_!"

Roseleaf bowed.

"Upon my word!"

There was nothing in any of these expressions that conveyed the
information which the younger man craved, namely, whether his friend
approved what he had announced, but he stole a look at him and saw that
he appeared more astounded than angry.

"You dear boy," he said, "I don't know what to say to you. You blush
like a maiden over the acknowledgment. I am half inclined to believe you
are the girl in the case, and your partner in love some great, strapping
fellow on whose bosom you intend to pillow your coy head. So it is
Daisy, eh? And last night it came to you? Tell me how it happened."

Comforted in a measure by the good nature of his friend, Roseleaf
proceeded to give the outlines of what had occurred, suppressing the
more intimate facts with which the luckier reader is acquainted. He
admitted the touch of hands, but did not mention the pressure of lips to
lips. He told of the girl's swoon, but said nothing of the extraordinary
measures adopted to bring her to her senses. But, while he made no
insinuations, nor pretended to see