wish to see
Mr. Tudor, I will call him at once. He is in the parlor."

"Please don't," sobbed Daisy. "I don't want to see anybody. I must go
home to Uncle John at once. Have I been here all night?"

"Why, bless your dear little heart, you have been here many a night
and many a week. We thought at one time you would surely die."

"I wish I had," moaned Daisy. In the bitterness of her sorely wounded
heart she said to herself that Providence had done everything for her
without taking her life.

"We thought," pursued Mrs. Tudor, gently, "that perhaps you desired to
see my husband--he is a detective--upon some matter. You fainted when
you were just within the gate."

"Was it your garden?" asked Daisy, surprisedly. "I thought it was a
park!"

"Then you were not in search of Mr. Tudor, my dear?" asked his wife,
quite mystified.

"No," replied Daisy. "I wanted to get away from every one who knew me,
or every one I knew, except Uncle John."

"I shall not question her concerning herself to-day," Mrs. Tudor
thought. "I will wait a bit until she is stronger." She felt delicate
about even asking her name. "She will seek my confidence soon," she
thought. "I must wait."

Mrs. Tudor was a kind-hearted little soul. She tried every possible
means of diverting Daisy's attention from the absorbing sorrow which
seemed consuming her.

She read her choice, sparkling paragraphs from the papers, commenting
upon them, in a pretty, gossiping way.

Nothing seemed to interest the pretty little creature, or bring a
smile to the quivering, childish lips.

"Ah! here is something quite racy!" she cried, drawing her chair up
closer to the bedside. "_A scandal in high life._ This is sure to be
entertaining."

Mrs. Tudor was a good little woman, but, like all women in general,
she delighted in a spicy scandal.

A handsome stranger had married a beautiful heiress. For a time all
went merry as a marriage-bell. Suddenly a second wife appeared on the
scene, of which no one previously knew the existence. The husband had
sincerely believed himself separated by law from wife number one, but
through some technicality of the law, the separation was pronounced
illegal, and the beautiful heiress bitterly realized to her cost that
she was no wife.

"It must be a terrible calamity to be placed in such a predicament,"
cried Mrs. Tudor, energetically. "I blame the husband for not finding
out beyond a doubt that he was free from his first wife."