thinking of was a friend of my
father's, who, at one time, wanted him"--here Margaret paused--"wanted
me to--to be his wife some day."

The rapid imagination of Barton conjured up the figure of a well-to-do
local pawnbroker, or captain of a trading vessel, as the selected spouse
of Margaret. He fumed at the picture in his fancy.

"I didn't like him much, though he certainly was very kind. His
name--but perhaps I should not mention his name?"

"Never mind," said Barton. "I dare say I never heard of him."

"But I should tell you, first of all, that my own name is not that which
you, and Mrs. St. John Deloraine know me by. I had often intended to
tell her; but I have become so frightened lately, and it seemed so mean
to be living with her under a false name. But to speak of it brought so
many terrible things back to mind."

"Dear Margaret," Barton whispered, taking her hand.

They were both standing, at this moment, with their backs to the
pathway, and an observer might have thought that they were greatly
interested in the water-fowl.

"My name is not Burnside," Margaret went on, glancing over her shoulder
across the gardens and toward the river; "my name is--"

"Daisy Shields!" cried a clear voice. "Daisy, you're found at last, and
I've found you! How glad Miss Marlett will be!"

But by this time the astonished Barton beheld Margaret in the
impassioned embrace of a very pretty and highly-excited young lady;
while Mrs. St. John Deloraine, who was with her, gazed with amazement in
her eyes.

"Oh, my dear!" Miss Harman (for it was that enthusiast) hurried on, in
a pleasant flow of talk, like a brook, with pleasant interruptions. "Oh,
my dear! I was walking in the park with my maid, and I met Mrs. St. John
Deloraine, and she said she had lost her friends, and I came to help
her to look for them; and I've found _you!_ It's like Stanley finding
Livingstone. 'How I Found Daisy.' I'll write a book about it. And where
_have_ you been hiding yourself? None of the girls ever knew anything
was the matter--only Miss Mariett and me! And I've left for good; and
she and I are quite friends, and I'm to be presented next Drawing Room."

While this address (which, at least, proved that Margaret had
acquaintances in the highest circles) was being poured forth, Mrs. St.
John Deloraine and Barton were observing all with unfeigned astonishment
and concern.

They both perceived that the mystery of Margaret's past was about to be