"Mrs. Rex Lyon, you mean," said the detective, with a sly twinkle in his eye. "But for once in your life you are at sea--and far from shore; this portrait represents a different person altogether. Come, come, wife, get me a cup of tea--quick--and a biscuit," he cried, leading the way to the kitchen, where the savory supper was cooking. "I haven't time to wait for tea, I must overtake that girl before she reaches Whitestone Hall." CHAPTER XXXVI. The shade of night was wrapping its dusky mantle over the earth as Daisy, flushed and excited, and trembling in every limb, alighted from the train at Allendale. Whitestone Hall was quite a distance from the station; she had quite a walk before her. Not a breath of air seemed to stir the branches of the trees, and the inky blackness of the sky presaged the coming storm. Since dusk the coppery haze seemed to gather itself together; great purple masses of clouds piled themselves in the sky; a lurid light overspread the heavens, and now and then the dense, oppressive silence was broken by distant peals of thunder, accompanied by great fierce rain-drops. Daisy drew her cloak closer about her, struggling bravely on through the storm and the darkness, her heart beating so loudly she wondered it did not break. Poor child! how little she knew she was fast approaching the crisis of her life! She remembered, with a little sob, the last time she had traversed that road--she was seated by John Brooks's side straining her eyes toward the bend in the road, watching eagerly for the first glimpse of the magnolia-tree, and the handsome young husband waiting there. Coy blushes suffused Daisy's cheeks as she struggled on through the pouring rain. She forgot she was a wretched, unpitied, forsaken little bride, on a mission of such great importance. She was only a simple child, after all, losing sight of all the whole world, as her thoughts dwelt on the handsome young fellow, her husband in name only, whom she saw waiting for her at the trysting-place, looking so cool, so handsome and lovable in his white linen suit and blue tie; his white straw hat, with the blue-dotted band around it, lying on the green grass beside him, and the sunshine drifting through the green leaves on his smiling face and brown, curling hair. "If Rex had only known I was innocent, he could not have judged me so harshly. Oh, my love--my love!" she cried out. "Heaven must have made us for each other, but a fate more cruel than death has torn us asunder. Oh, Rex, my love, if you had only been more patient with me!" She crept carefully along the road through the intense darkness and the down-pouring rain. She knew every inch of the ground. She could not lose her way. She reached the turn in the road which was but a few feet distant from the magnolia-tree where first she had met Rex and where she had seen him last--a few steps more and she would reach it.