is thoughts were too confused. Yes,
it was but too true--the marriage could not go on. He reached hastily
toward the bell-rope.

"You will not let my--Rex know until I am far away," she cried,
piteously, as she put her marriage certificate in Mr. Hurlhurst's
hand.

"I am going to send for Rex to come here at once," he made answer.

With a low, agonized moan, Daisy grasped his outstretched hand,
scarcely knowing what she did.

"Oh, please do not, Mr. Hurlhurst," she sobbed. "Rex must not see me;
I should die if you sent for him; I could not bear it--indeed, I could
not." She was looking at him, all her heart in her eyes, and, as if he
felt magnetically the power of her glance, he turned toward her,
meeting the earnest gaze of the blue, uplifted eyes.

The light fell full upon her fair, flushed face, and the bonnet and
veil she wore had fallen back from the golden head.

A sudden mist seemed to come before his eyes, and he caught his breath
with a sharp gasp.

"What did you say your name was before you were married?" he asked, in
a low, intense voice. "I--I--did not quite understand."

"Daisy Brooks, your overseer's niece," she answered, simply.

She wondered why he uttered such a dreary sigh as he muttered, half
aloud, how foolish he was to catch at every straw of hope.

Carefully he examined the certificate. It was too true. It certainly
certified Rexford Lyon and Daisy Brooks were joined together in the
bonds of matrimony nearly a year before. And then he looked at the
paper containing the notice of her tragic death, which Daisy had read
and carefully saved. Surely no blame could be attached to Rex, in the
face of these proofs.

He was sorry for the beautiful, haughty heiress, to whom this terrible
news would be a great shock; he was sorry for Rex, he had grown so
warmly attached to him of late, but he felt still more sorry for the
fair child-bride, toward whom he felt such a yearning, sympathetic
pity.

The great bell in the tower slowly pealed the hour of eight, with a
dull, heavy clang, and he suddenly realized what was to be done must
be done at once.

"I must send for both Rex and Pluma," he said, laying his hands on the
beautiful, bowed head; "but, if it will comfort you to be unobserved
during the interview, you shall have your wish." He motioned her to
one of the curtained recesses, and placed her in an easy-chair. He saw
she was trembling violently.

It was a hard ordeal for him to go throug