She stopped short in utter confusion.

"I choose you shall do just as I bid you," replied Gertie, in her
imperious, scornful anger. "It really seems to me you forget your
position here, Miss Brooks. How dare you refuse me?"

Opposition always strengthened Gertie's decision, and she determined
Daisy should take her note to Rex Lyon at all hazards.

The eloquent, mute appeal in the blue eyes raised to her own was
utterly lost on her.

"The pride of these dependent companions is something ridiculous," she
went on, angrily. "You consider yourself too fine, I suppose, to be
made a messenger of." Gertie laughed aloud, a scornful, mocking laugh.
"Pride and poverty do not work very well together. You may go to your
room now and get your hat and shawl. I shall have the letter written
in a very few minutes. There will be no use appealing to mamma. You
ought to know by this time we overrule her objections always."

It was too true, Mrs. Glenn never had much voice in a matter where
Bess or Gertie had decided the case.

Like one in a dream Daisy turned from them. She never remembered how
she gained her own room. With cold, tremulous fingers she fastened her
hat, tucking the bright golden hair carefully beneath her veil, and
threw her shawl over her shoulders, just as Gertie approached, letter
in hand.

"You need not go around by the main road," she said, "there is a much
nearer path leading down to the stone wall. You need not wait for an
answer: there will be none. The servants over there are awkward,
blundering creatures--do not trust it to them--you must deliver it to
Rex himself."

"I make one last appeal to you, Miss Gertie. Indeed, it is not pride
that prompts me. I could not bear it. Have pity on me. You are gentle
and kind to others; please, oh, please be merciful to me!"

"I have nothing more to say upon the subject--I have said you were to
go. You act as if I were sending you to some place where you might
catch the scarlet fever or the mumps. You amuse me; upon my word you
do. Rex is not dangerous, neither is he a Bluebeard; his only fault is
being alarmingly handsome. The best advice I can give you is, don't
admire him too much. He should be labeled, 'Out of the market.'"

Gertie tripped gayly from the room, her crimson satin ribbons
fluttering after her, leaving a perceptible odor of violets in the
room, while Daisy clutched the note in her cold, nervous grasp,
walking like one in a terrible dream through