aved him back. The presence of the intended bridegroom was
evidently not agreeable to the old gentleman.

"Sit down," said Mr. Fern, in a quavering voice, addressing himself
wholly to Weil. "I telephoned _to you_ that my daughter had returned,
for I knew _you_ would be anxious." He bore with special stress on the
word "you." "I--I did not know that you intended to bring--any other
person."

The allusion to Roseleaf was so direct, that he could not help
attempting some kind of a reply.

"Who could be more anxious than I?" he asked, in a tone that was very
sweet and tender; in vivid contrast, the old man thought, to his manner
of the preceding evening. "No one has a greater interest to learn where
she has been these long, desolate hours."

Mr. Fern abandoned his intention not to recognize the fact that Roseleaf
was present, and turned upon him with a fierce glare in his sunken eyes.

"What right have _you_ to ask questions?" he demanded, pressing the
trembling form of his daughter to his own. "You were the first to doubt
her--even her innocence--this lamb that would have given her life for
you only yesterday! She has returned to _me_, and henceforth she is
_mine_! You could not have her though you came on your knees! You wish
to know where she has been! Well, you never _will_! She will not tell
you! It is her own affair. I am speaking for _her_ when I say that we
desire no more of your visits to this house; we are through with you,
thank God!"

It would be hard to tell which of the two men who listened to this was
the more surprised. Mr. Weil felt his heart sink as well as did
Roseleaf. Daisy clung to her father, without raising her eyes, and there
was nothing to indicate that she disputed his assertions.

All was over between her and Roseleaf! Nothing could bring them together
again! And she did not mean to divulge the cause of her remaining away a
day and a night--that day and night that had been expected to precede
and succeed her marriage.

Shirley rose slowly. He bent his eyes earnestly on the father and
daughter, and his voice was firm.

"When one is dismissed, there is nothing for him but to go. I regret
sincerely what I said last night, when the horror of this thing came
suddenly upon me. I love you, Daisy, and I know by what you have told me
so often that you love me. Are the foolish utterances of a distracted
man to separate us forever? Conceive the agony I was in when at the very
moment I was to star