it open hastily Mr. Fern uttered a
cry and handed it to his companion:

"I am alive and uninjured. Look for me to-morrow.--Daisy."

A gush of tears drowned the exclamations of joy that the father began to
utter.

"Alive!" he exclaimed. "And will be home to-morrow! Ah, Mr. Weil, hope
is not lost, after all. But why, _why_ does she leave me in my
loneliness another night? Is there any way in which you can explain this
mystery?"

Mr. Weil confessed his inability to do so. He tried, however, to show
the father the bright side of the affair, and bade him rest tranquil in
the certainty that only a few hours separated him from the child he
adored. When Daisy came home she would explain everything to his
satisfaction. In the meantime he ought to indulge in thankfulness for
what he had learned rather than in regrets.

"Go to bed and get a good rest," he added. "I will make a journey to the
telegraph office in the city and see if it is possible to trace this
message. If I learn anything I will ring you up on the telephone at
once. And remember, if you do not hear from me, there is a proverb that
no news is good news. Daisy has promised to come home to-morrow. This
is something definite. An hour ago we were plunged in despair. Now we
have a certainty that should buoy us up to the highest hope."

Catching at this view of the case, Mr. Fern consented to seek rest and
Mr. Weil took the next train to the city. Engaging a carriage he bade
the driver take him with all speed to Mr. Roseleaf's residence.
Notwithstanding the harsh manner in which he had been treated by his
late friend, he wanted to be the first to inform him that Daisy had been
heard from. He was smarting, naturally, under the imputation upon his
own honor, and felt that the telegram in his hand would at least remove
that suspicion.

"I couldn't help coming again, Shirley," he said, when he was in the
presence of the novelist. "I know, despite the cruel manner you have
assumed, that you still love Daisy Fern and will be glad to hear that
she is safe from harm. Here is a telegram that her father has just
received, stating that she is well and will be at home to-morrow."

His face glowed with pleasure as he held out the missive, but darkened
again when Roseleaf declined to take it in his hand. The young man had
not moved, apparently, from the chair in which he had been seen three
hours before, and his expression of countenance was unchanged.

"Does she say