lacked color, and he replied that he had been suffering from a slight
illness. Then she spoke of her new story, revealing the plot to a
limited extent, and said it would be ready for him in about two weeks.
The astonished young man saw that she considered his services entirely
at her disposal, without question, whenever she saw fit to call upon
them. He talked it over with Daisy.

"You know," stammered the girl, "that Millie thought you were in love
with her. That would account for everything, wouldn't it?"

"But where did she ever get that idea!" he exclaimed, desperately.

"She says you tried to put your arm around her."

"Just to practice. Just to learn what love was like. I told you how
ignorant I was, the same as I did her. Archie said she would show me,
but it didn't amount to anything. It was only when I asked you, Daisy,
that I began to understand. Do you remember how you stood on your toes
and kissed me?"

The girl bade him be quiet and not get too reminiscent, but he would
not.

"It taught me all I needed to know, in one instant," he persisted. "Ah,
sweetheart, how much happiness and suffering I have had on your
account!"

He stooped and kissed her tenderly as he spoke.

"And after this it will be happiness only," she whispered.

Another kiss answered this prediction.

"What can I do if she asks me to rewrite the whole of another novel?"
asked Roseleaf, with a groan.

"I think you might find time to oblige her," said Daisy. "But you ought
to explain things--you ought not to let her misunderstand your position
any longer."

He said that this was true, and that he would act upon the suggestion.
He had her father's consent, and nothing could stand in the way of his
marriage to Daisy before the year ended. It was not right, of course, to
go on with the implication of being engaged to both the sisters.

"But I wish I could escape doing that writing," he added. "I hate
fiction, any way; I have been at work on one of my own that I fear I
never shall finish. There is much sadness in novels, and I like joy so
much better. I believe I shall abandon the whole field."

This she would not listen to. She said her husband that was to be must
become a famous writer, for she wanted to be very proud of him. And Mr.
Fern came in to the room, and having the question put to him, decided it
in the same manner, as he was sure to do when he learned that his
younger daughter held that opinion.

The retired merchant