lunged into her breast. The girl ran a
short distance, and when the dagger was drawn from the wound, she fell
down dead. In some way she fancied she was like that girl--that, when
she should reach her own room and stand face to face with her own
pain, she should drop down dead.

The door was closed, and she stood motionless, trying to understand
and realize what she had heard.

"Have my senses deceived me?" She said the words over and over to
herself. "Did I dream it? Can it even be possible Pluma Hurlhurst is
coming here, coming to the home where I should have been? God help me.
Coming to comfort Rex--my husband!"

She could fancy the darkly beautiful face bending over him; her white
jeweled hands upon his shoulder, or, perhaps, smoothing back the bonny
brown clustering curls from his white brow.

"My place should have been by his side," she continued.

It hurt and pained her to hear the name of the man she loved dearer
than life mentioned with the name of Pluma Hurlhurst.

"Oh, Rex, my love, my love!" she cried out, "I can not bear it any
longer. The sun of my life has gone down in gloom and chill. Oh, Rex,
my husband, I have not the strength nor the courage to bear it. I am a
coward. I can not give you up. We are living apart under the blue,
smiling sky and the golden sun. Yet in the sight of the angels, I am
your wife."

Suddenly, the solemn bells from Rex's home commenced tolling, and
through the leafy branches of the trees she caught a glimpse of a
white face and bowed head, and of a proud, cold face bending
caressingly over it, just as she had pictured it in her imagination.

Dear Heaven! it was Rex and Pluma! She did not moan. She did not cry
out, nor utter even a sigh. Like one turned to marble she, the poor
little misguided child-wife, stood watching them with an intentness
verging almost into madness.

She saw him lift his head wearily from his white hands, rise slowly,
and then, side by side, both disappeared from the window.

After that Daisy never knew how the moments passed. She remembered the
tidy little waiting-maid coming to her and asking if she would please
come down to tea. She shook her head but no sound issued from the
white lips, and the maid went softly away, closing the door behind
her.

Slowly the sun sunk in the west in a great red ball of fire. The light
died out of the sky, and the song birds trilled their plaintive
good-night songs in the soft gloaming. Still Daisy sat with h