ing back my seed-pearls? I have half a mind to
make mamma deduct the amount from your salary."

"You may have it all if it will only replace them," said Daisy,
earnestly. "I think, though, I have gathered them all up."

A great, round tear rolled off from her long, silky eyelashes and into
the very heart of the frosted lily over which she bent, but the lily's
petals seemed to close about it, leaving no trace of its presence.

Bessie and Gertie openly discussed their chagrin and keen disappointment,
yet admitting what a handsome couple Rex and Pluma made--he so courteous
and noble, she so royal and queenly.

"Of course we must call upon her if she is to be Rex's wife," said
Gertie, spitefully. "I foresee she will be exceedingly popular."

"We must also invite her to Glengrove," said Bess, thoughtfully. "It
is the least we can do, and it is expected of us. I quite forgot to
mention one of their servants was telling Jim both Rex and little
Birdie intend to accompany Miss Hurlhurst back to Whitestone Hall as
soon after the funeral as matters can be arranged."

"Why, that is startling news indeed! Why, then, they will probably
leave some time this week!" cried Gertie.

"Most probably," said Bess. "You ought certainly to send over your
note this evening--it is very early yet."

"There is no one to send," said Gertie. "Jim has driven over to
Natchez, and there is no one else to go."

"Perhaps Daisy will go for you," suggested Bess.

There was no need of being jealous _now_ of Daisy's beauty in that
direction. Gertie gladly availed herself of the suggestion.

"Daisy," she said, turning abruptly to the quivering little figure,
whose face drooped over the lilac silk, "never mind finishing that
dress to-night. I wish you to take a note over to the large gray stone
house yonder, and be sure to deliver it to Mr. Rex Lyon himself."

CHAPTER XXV.

Gertie Glenn never forgot the despairing cry that broke from Daisy's
white lips as she repeated her command:

"I wish you to deliver this note to Mr. Rex Lyon himself."

"Oh, Miss Gertie," she cried, clasping her hands together in an agony
of entreaty, "I can not--oh, indeed I can not! Ask anything of me but
that and I will gladly do it!"

Both girls looked at her in sheer astonishment.

"What is the reason you can not?" cried Gertie, in utter amazement. "I
do not comprehend you."

"I--I can not take the note," she said, in a frightened whisper. "I do
not--I--"