ts both for you and Miss Denham. Here is
yours," he added, turning to the governess, who grew rosy, "a very
simple bangle. I wish it were more worthy of your acceptance," and he
handed it with a bow.

Daisy, her heart filled with jealousy, glided away. Giles saw her face,
guessed her feeling, and followed. In a corner he caught her, and placed
something on her finger. "Our engagement ring," he whispered, and Daisy
once more smiled. Her lover smiled also. But his heart was heavy.

CHAPTER II

AN ANONYMOUS LETTER

After the riot of the evening came the silence of the night. The
children departed amidst the stormy laughter of Morley, and it was
Anne's task to see that the triplets were put comfortably to bed. She
sat in the nursery, and watched the washing and undressing and
hair-curling, and listened to their joyous chatter about the wonderful
presents and the wonderful pleasures of that day. Afterwards, when they
were safely tucked away, she went down to supper and received the
compliments of Morley on her capability in entertaining children. Mrs.
Morley also, and in a more genuine way, added her quota of praise.

"You are my right hand, Miss Denham," she said, with a smile in her
weary blue eyes. "I don't know what I shall do without you."

"Oh, Miss Denham is not going," said the master of the house.

"Who knows?" smiled Anne. "I have always been a wanderer, and it may be
that I shall be called away suddenly."

It was on the tip of Morley's tongue to ask by whom, but the hardening
of Anne's face and the flash of her dark eyes made him change his mind.
All the same he concluded that there was someone by whom she might be
summoned and guessed also that the obeying of the call would come as an
unwilling duty. Mrs. Morley saw nothing of this. She had not much brain
power, and what she had was devoted to considerations dealing with the
passing hour. At the present moment she could only think that it was
time for supper, and that all present were hungry and tired.

Hungry Anne certainly was not, but she confessed to feeling weary.
Making some excuse she retired to her room, but not to sleep. When the
door was locked she put on her dressing-gown, shook down her long black
hair, and sat by the fire.

Her thoughts were not pleasant. Filled with shame at the knowledge of
his treachery towards the woman he was engaged to marry, Giles had kept
close to Daisy's side during supper and afterwards. He strove to
int