eks upon her mercy
and kindness) she saw Daisy depart.

"May God grant you may not be too late!" she cried, fervently,
clasping the young girl, for the last time, in her arms.

Too late! The words sounded like a fatal warning to her. No, no; she
could not, she must not, be too late!

* * * * *

At the very moment Daisy had left the detective's house, Basil
Hurlhurst was closeted with Mr. Tudor in his private office, relating
minutely the disappearance of his infant daughter, as told him by the
dying housekeeper, Mrs. Corliss.

"I will make you a rich man for life," he cried, vehemently, "if you
can trace my long-lost child, either dead or alive!"

Mr. Tudor shook his head. "I am inclined to think there is little
hope, after all these years."

"Stranger things than that have happened," cried Basil Hurlhurst,
tremulously. "You must give me hope, Mr. Tudor. You are a skillful,
expert detective; you will find her, if any one can. If my other child
were living," he continued, with an effort, "you know it would make
considerable difference in the distribution of my property. On the
night my lost child was born I made my will, leaving Whitestone Hall
and the Hurlhurst Plantations to the child just born, and the
remainder of my vast estates I bequeathed to my daughter Pluma. I
believed my little child buried with its mother, and in all these
years that followed I never changed that will--it still stands. My
daughter Pluma is to be married to-morrow night. I have not told her
of the startling discovery I have made; for if anything should come of
it, her hopes of a lifetime would be dashed. She believes herself sole
heiress to my wealth. I have made up my mind, however," he continued,
eagerly, "to confide in the young man who is to be my future
son-in-law. If nothing ever comes of this affair, Pluma need never
know of it."

"That would be a wise and safe plan," assented the detective.

"Wealth can have no influence over him," continued the father,
reflectively; "for Mr. Rex Lyon's wealth is sufficient for them, even
if they never had a single dollar from me; still, it is best to
mention this matter to him."

Rex Lyon! Ah! the detective remembered him well--the handsome,
debonair young fellow who had sought his services some time since,
whose wife had died such a tragic death. He remembered how sorry he
had been for the young husband; still he made no comment. He had
little t