ry: when he did for a moment turn his
thoughts from the campaign he was engrossed with, there was only one
face in Kirton society whose countenance or aversion troubled him: and
that one was sternly and irrevocably turned away.

Thus Daisy, though she might be cheered in the streets, and though she
bore herself with exuberant gaiety out of doors, passed lonely evenings,
especially when Norburn left her to help in the country elections. The
Chief Justice had been to see her once, and Lady Perry had left a card,
but she was almost always alone, and then the exuberant gaiety would
evaporate. One evening about half-past nine, she was sitting alone,
wishing her father or her lover would come back to her, when there was a
knock at the door. Alicia Derosne came in, with a hasty, almost furtive,
step.

"You are alone, aren't you? I saw Mr. Medland was away."

"Yes, I am alone," said Daisy, doubtful whether to put on her armour or
not.

"Oh, Daisy, I've never been able to come and wish you joy yet. I
wouldn't do it by letter. I'm so glad. You are happy, aren't you?" and
she took Daisy's two hands and kissed her.

"Yes, I am very happy. It's sweet of you to come. How did you manage
it?"

Neither cared to pretend that Lady Eynesford would approve of such a
visit.

"Oh, I slipped out," said Alicia, nestling beside her friend. "Poor
child! What things you have been through! Still--you have Mr. Norburn."

"Yes; with him and father I really don't mind." She paused, and then
there slipped out, in lower tone, a tell-tale "Much."

Alicia answered it with a caress.

"How brave you are!" she said. "Does--does he mind?"

"Mr. Norburn?"

"I meant your father."

"He has no time to mind now. We are fighting," said Daisy.

"Ah, a man can fight, can't he?"

"Oh, but so can a girl. I'm fighting too."

"I've no one to fight for."

Daisy turned quickly towards her: there were tears in her eyes. Surely
she was a sorry comforter: perhaps she had come as much seeking as to
bring comfort.

"You don't look very happy," remarked Daisy.

"Don't talk about me, Daisy. It will never make the least difference
between you and me. I wanted to tell you. You know we are going? You
must write to me, dear, and some day you and Mr. Norburn must come to
England and stay with me, when I have my own house. Promise now! I--I
don't want to lose you quite."

"Of course I will write, but you won't care for our news when you are
gone."

"Indeed