uld have immortalized a painter. No wonder
the man's heart softened as he gazed. He saw a glitter of golden
curls, and the scarlet gleam of a mantle--a young girl, tall and
slender, with rounded, supple limbs, and a figure graceful in every
line and curve--while her arms, bare to the elbow, would have charmed
a sculptor. Cheek and lips were a glowing rosy red--while her eyes, of
the deepest and darkest blue, were the merriest that ever gazed up to
the summer sunshine.

Suddenly from over the trees there came the sound of the great bell at
the Hall. Daisy stood quite still in alarm.

"It is five o'clock!" she cried. "What shall I do? Aunt Septima will
be so angry with me; she promised Miss Pluma her white dresses should
be at the Hall by five, and it is that already."

Poor little Daisy! no wonder her heart throbbed painfully and the look
of fear deepened in her blue eyes as she sped rapidly up the path that
led to the little cottage where Septima grimly awaited her with
flushed face and flashing eyes.

"So," she said, harshly, "you are come at last, are you? and a pretty
fright you have given me. You shall answer to Miss Pluma _herself_ for
this. I dare say you will never attempt to offend her a second time."

"Indeed, Aunt Septima, I never dreamed it was so late," cried
conscious Daisy. "I was watching the sun rise over the cotton-fields,
and watching the dewdrops glittering on the corn, thinking of the
beautiful heiress of Whitestone Hall. I am so sorry I forgot about the
dresses."

Hastily catching up the heavy basket, she hurried quickly down the
path, like a startled deer, to escape the volley of wrath the
indignant spinster hurled after her.

It was a beautiful morning; no cloud was in the smiling heavens; the
sun shone brightly, and the great oak and cedar-trees that skirted the
roadside seemed to thrill with the song of birds. Butterflies spread
their light wings and coquetted with the fragrant blossoms, and busy
humming-bees buried themselves in the heart of the crimson wild rose.
The basket was very heavy, and poor little Daisy's hands ached with
the weight of it.

"If I might but rest for a few moments only," she said to herself,
eying the cool, shady grass by the roadside. "Surely a moment or two
will not matter. Oh, dear, I am so tired!"

She set the basket down on the cool, green grass, flinging herself
beside it beneath the grateful shade of a blossoming magnolia-tree,
resting her golden head