"It won't be that way, though. I think now he will make a fine man and we shall hear nothing disgraceful about him, if we ever hear at all, which I pray may never come to pass. For I want to put it out of my mind like a story I have read with a bad ending." "You are a brave girl, Daffodil." "I don't know why I should be really unhappy. I have so many to love me. And it doesn't matter if I should never marry." Mrs. Forbes laughed at that, but made no reply. Here was the young lieutenant, who was taking heart of grace again, though he did not push himself forward. On the whole it was not an unhappy summer for Daffodil. She found a great interest in helping Felix though he was not a booky boy. Always his mind seemed running on some kind of machinery, something that would save time and labor. "Now, if you were to do so," he would say to his father, "you see it would bring about this result and save a good deal of time. Why doesn't some one see----" "You get through with your books and try it yourself. There's plenty of space in the world for real improvements." Daffodil went up to the old trysting place one day. How still and lonesome it seemed. Had the squirrels forgotten her? They no longer ran up her arm and peered into her eyes. He was at Hurst Abbey and that arrogant, imperious woman was queening it as my lady. Was all this satisfying him? It was the right thing to do even if his motives were not of the highest. To comfort his father in the deep sorrow, and there was his little son. "No," she said to herself, "I should not want to come here often. The old remembrances had better die out." She had written to her guardian explaining the broken marriage, and he wondered a little at the high courage with which she had accepted all the events. He had sent her a most kindly answer. And now came another letter from him. There had been inquiries about leasing some property at Allegheny. Also there were several improvements to be made in view of establishing a future city. His health would not admit of the journey and the necessary going about, so he had decided to send his partner, Mr. Bartram, whom she must remember, and whom he could trust to study the interests of his ward. And what he wanted to ask now was another visit from her, though he was well aware she was no longer the little girl he had known and whose brightness he had enjoyed so much. He was not exactly an invalid, but now he had to be careful in the winter and stay in the house a good deal. Sometimes the days were long and lonesome and he wondered if out of the goodness of her heart she could spare him a few months and if her parents would spare her. Philadelphia had improved greatly and was now the Capitol of the country, though it was still staid and had not lost all of its old nice formality. Couldn't she take pity on him and come and read to him, talk over books and happenings, drive out now and then and be like a granddaughter as she was to his friend Duvernay?