"My dear Mrs. Oliver, I have decided that I shall have to change my plans, and start for Albany by the noon train to-day. There is a matter I have concluded must have my immediate attention." Mrs. Oliver was voluble with regrets. Such a disappointment! She had been planning for this one day for so long! And Mr. Oliver was unexpectedly here to enjoy it with them! So sorry especially to have her miss seeing their new Y. W. building that had been planned "in exact accordance with your own ideas, dear Mrs. Dunlap, and it is simply perfect. Do, Ralph, tell her how sorry you are not to be able to show her through it." Thus urged, Mr. Oliver succeeded in finding voice to say: "Mrs. Dunlap understands, I am sure, better than I could tell her, how ready I am to do her bidding." Mrs. Dunlap got away by the noon train and took the night-express for the West, canceling all her engagements for the week; she had more important work to look after. Not telegrams, nor long distance telephones, nor even carefully written letters could serve her now. She must go in person to try to explain, as best she might, to that dear girl who was waiting at home to hear from one to whom she had given her trust, to prove him to her mother as "good and noble!" As she sped westward that afternoon the good woman prayed that she might be able to help save that sweet, periled life. CHAPTER IV MRS. SHELDON and her daughter Daisy were occupying easy chairs in their pleasant living-room, surrounded by all possible evidences of home comforts, and luxuries. But even a passing glance at the two faces would have suggested unrest. The mother's face looked worn, and her eyes were anxious; while the daughter's eyes were tense with excitement. "Daisy dear," began Mrs. Sheldon, and was interrupted: "Please, Mother, won't you call me 'Marguerite'?" A look of pain flushed the mother's face but she spoke quietly. "Why, daughter, you know I nearly always say 'Daisy.'" "I know you do; but I—I don't like it to-night; I—Mother, I just can't bear the sound of it! That's the only explanation I can give." Unshed tears were in the mother's eyes. "I will try to remember," she said, her voice low and tremulous. "But you are my 'Daisy' you know; all I have left in this world; and your father loved that name." Daisy with a sudden movement flung herself on the arm of the great easy chair and hid her face in her mother's neck; when she tried to talk her voice choked with sobs. "Oh, Mother, do please try to understand; you know what Father was to me, and you surely know that I love you with all my soul. If I hadn't, I—" But the convulsive sobs came again, and she once more hid her face, while the mother's arms clasped her tenderly. A few minutes passed, then the girl sat erect and tried again.