uppressed the
remark.

"Go on," he said quietly, folding his arms.

She shook her head and bit her lip. "You keep me from my work. I must
attend to my duties. A poor governess, you know." With a laugh she
joined the band of children, who were besieging Morley.

Giles remained where he was, his eyes fixed moodily on the ground. For
more than five months he had fought against an ever-growing passion for
the governess. He knew that he was in honor bound to marry Daisy, and
that she loved him dearly, yet his heart was with Anne Denham. Her
beauty, her brilliant conversation, her charm of manner, all appealed to
him strongly. And he had a shrewd suspicion that she was not altogether
indifferent to him, although she loyally strove to hide her true
feelings. Whenever he became tender, she ruthlessly laughed at him: she
talked constantly of Daisy and of her many charms, and on every occasion
strove to throw her into the company of Giles. She managed to do so on
this occasion, for Giles heard a rather pettish voice at his elbow, and
looked down to behold a flushed face. Daisy was angry, and looked the
prettier for her anger.

"You have scarcely spoken to me all night," she said, taking his arm; "I
do think you are unkind."

"My dear, you have been so busy with the children. And, indeed," he
added, with a grave smile, "you are scarcely more than a child yourself,
Daisy."

"I am woman enough to feel neglect."

"I apologize--on my knees, dearest."

"Oh, it's easy saying so," pouted Daisy, "but you know Anne----"

"What about Miss Denham?" asked Giles, outwardly calm.

"You like her."

"She is a very charming woman, but you are to be my wife. Jealous little
girl, can I not be ordinarily civil to Miss Denham without you getting
angry?"

"You need not be so _very_ civil."

"I won't speak to her at all if you like," replied Ware, with a fine
assumption of carelessness.

"Oh, if you only wouldn't," Daisy stopped--then continued passionately,
"I wish she would go away. I don't like her."

"She is fond of you, Daisy."

"Yes. And a cat is fond of a mouse. Mrs. Parry says----"

"Don't quote that odious woman, child," interrupted Ware sharply. "She
has a bad word for everyone."

"Well, she doesn't like Anne."

"Does she like anyone?" asked Giles coolly. "Come, Daisy, don't wrinkle
your face, and I'll take you out for a drive in my motor-car in a few
days."

"To-morrow! to-morrow!" cried Daisy, her face wreathed in