lowed by her cowering mother.

Rex did not seek to detain her; his eyes had suddenly fallen upon the
golden-haired little figure kneeling by Basil Hurlhurst's chair.

He reached her side at a single bound.

"Oh, Daisy, my darling, my darling!" he cried, snatching her in his
arms, and straining her to his breast, as he murmured passionate,
endearing words over her.

Suddenly he turned to Mr. Hurlhurst.

"I must explain--"

"That is quite unnecessary, Rex, my boy," said Mr. Tudor, stepping
forward with tears in his eyes; "Mr. Hurlhurst knows all."

It never occurred to handsome, impulsive Rex to question what Daisy
was doing there. He only knew Heaven had restored him his beautiful,
idolized child-bride.

"You will forgive my harshness, won't you, love?" he pleaded. "I will
devote my whole life to blot out the past. Can you learn to love me,
sweetheart, and forget the cloud that drifted between us?"

A rosy flush suffused the beautiful flower-like face, as Daisy shyly
lifted her radiantly love-lighted blue eyes to his face with a coy
glance that fairly took his breath away for rapturous ecstasy.

Daisy's golden head nestled closer on his breast, and two little soft,
white arms, whose touch thrilled him through and through, stole round
his neck--that was all the answer she made him.

John Brooks had quietly withdrawn from the room; and while Basil
Hurlhurst with a proudly glowing face went down among the waiting and
expectant guests to unfold to them the marvelous story, and explain
why the marriage could not take place, the detective briefly
acquainted Rex with the wonderful story.

"I sought and won you when you were simple little Daisy Brooks, and
now that you are a wealthy heiress in your own right, you must not
love me less."

Daisy glanced up into her handsome young husband's face as she
whispered, softly:

"Nothing can ever change my love, Rex, unless it is to love you more
and more."

And for answer Rex clasped the little fairy still closer in his arms,
kissing the rosy mouth over and over again, as he laughingly replied
he was more fortunate than most fellows, being lover and husband all
in one.

The announcement created an intense _furor_ among the fluttering
maidens down in the spacious parlors. Nobody regretted Pluma's
downfall, although Basil Hurlhurst carefully kept that part of the
narrative back.

"Oh, it is just like a romance," cried Eve Glenn, rapturously; "but
still we must not b