"For the past few months he has been quite attentive to Daisy, that is, as attentive as circumstances would allow, and I—do not trust him. I do not know why. But I don't! I am utterly at a loss to account for the influence he seems to have acquired over her in the few brief meetings they have had. She thinks me hard and cruel because I well, I can scarcely bear the sound of his name! And yet I have to confess that I have no good reason to offer for such a feeling. It appears that he really asked her to marry him. The idea is so obnoxious to me that I can scarcely bear to utter the words!" "And this trip they were taking together," ventured the troubled questioner; "you knew about it of course?" "Trip!" exclaimed the mother indignantly. "They were not traveling together! Why, I sent her away on this visit to get her out of his vicinity because I heard that he was intending to remain in this town several weeks! They simply met on the train. Daisy thinks it was a coincidence I suppose from what she says, but of course, he followed her. I am positive of that. To put it plainly, he seems to be infatuated with her. And she, poor child, has admitted to me this very afternoon that she loves him with all her heart! Oh, it seems so terrible for me to be telling this to you, a stranger, burdening you with my anxiety." Mrs. Sheldon wiped the tears away from her eyes, and struggled to keep more from falling. "But you have been so kind to me and to Daisy, and there has been no one to whom I could go for advice." Mary Dunlap slipped an arm around the shoulders of the mother with strong reassurance. "My dear!" she said in her warm comforting strong voice, "Just you cry if you want to, and don't worry about telling me. I'm used to helping mothers and girls. It is my job in life. And don't you worry. I'm going to help you, and I thank God I can. I'm glad too that you have told me this, for now I can speak frankly and tell you all I know. It is going to make things a lot easier to set right. And now, I've got to tell you the whole story." CHAPTER V THE voice was low and tender in which she began her story of the afternoon on the train. She made it plain that she had been so busy with her writing that she scarcely noticed who got on the train until toward evening when her work was done. She had been barely conscious of the two who took the seat in front of her, had given them but a swift glance and decided that they were bride and groom; until her work was done and she had leisure to look around. And then almost at once she was fascinated by the lovely face of the girl in front of her. Mary Dunlap was quick to note the pleased relaxing of the troubled face as she said this, and the instant sympathy as she gave her own first impression of the man who was sitting beside the girl. But as the tale progressed showing how late the train was, with inevitable missed connections, the mother's eye kindled with gratitude.