He could not tell whether she had heard his words or not, she stood before him so silent, her little hands working nervously together. She looked wistfully into his face, and she drew her slender figure up to its full height, as she replied, in a low, passionate, musical voice: "Mr. Lyon can not marry your daughter, sir, for he has a living wife." "Mr. Lyon has a wife?" repeated Basil Hurlhurst, literally dumbfounded with amazement. "In Heaven's name, explain yourself!" he cried, rising hastily from his chair and facing her. The agitation on his face was almost alarming. His grand old face was as white as his linen. His eyes were full of eager, painful suspense and excitement. With a violent effort at self-control he restrained his emotions, sinking back in his arm-chair like one who had received an unexpected blow. Daisy never remembered in what words she told him the startling truth. He never interrupted her until she had quite finished. "You will not blame Rex," she pleaded, her sweet voice choking with emotion; "he believes me dead." Basil Hurlhurst did not answer; his thoughts were too confused. Yes, it was but too true--the marriage could not go on. He reached hastily toward the bell-rope. "You will not let my--Rex know until I am far away," she cried, piteously, as she put her marriage certificate in Mr. Hurlhurst's hand. "I am going to send for Rex to come here at once," he made answer. With a low, agonized moan, Daisy grasped his outstretched hand, scarcely knowing what she did. "Oh, please do not, Mr. Hurlhurst," she sobbed. "Rex must not see me; I should die if you sent for him; I could not bear it--indeed, I could not." She was looking at him, all her heart in her eyes, and, as if he felt magnetically the power of her glance, he turned toward her, meeting the earnest gaze of the blue, uplifted eyes. The light fell full upon her fair, flushed face, and the bonnet and veil she wore had fallen back from the golden head. A sudden mist seemed to come before his eyes, and he caught his breath with a sharp gasp. "What did you say your name was before you were married?" he asked, in a low, intense voice. "I--I--did not quite understand." "Daisy Brooks, your overseer's niece," she answered, simply. She wondered why he uttered such a dreary sigh as he muttered, half aloud, how foolish he was to catch at every straw of hope. Carefully he examined the certificate. It was too true. It certainly certified Rexford Lyon and Daisy Brooks were joined together in the bonds of matrimony nearly a year before. And then he looked at the paper containing the notice of her tragic death, which Daisy had read and carefully saved. Surely no blame could be attached to Rex, in the face of these proofs.