Swiftly the stage rolled down the green sloping hill-side; in another moment it had reached the alder bushes and gained the curve of the road, and she saw Rex lying on the green grass waiting for her. The sunlight drifting through the magnolia blossoms fell upon his handsome, upturned, smiling face and the dark curls pushed back from his white forehead. "Rex! Rex!" she cried, wringing her white hands, but the words died away on her white lips, making no sound. Then the world seemed to close darkly around her, and poor little Daisy, the unhappy girl-bride, fell back in the coach in a deadly swoon. CHAPTER VII. "Poor little Daisy!" cried John Brooks, wiping away a suspicious moisture from his eyes with his rough, toil-hardened hand, "she takes it pretty hard now; but the time will come when she will thank me for it. Heaven knows there's nothing in this world more valuable than an education; and she will need it, poor little, motherless child!" As the stage drove up before the station Daisy opened her blue eyes with a sigh. "I can at least write to Rex at once," she thought, "and explain the whole matter to him." Daisy smiled as she thought Rex would be sure to follow on the very next train. John Brooks watched the smile and the flush of the rosy face, and believed Daisy was beginning to feel more reconciled about going to school. "I hope we will get there by noon," said John, anxiously, taking the seat beside her on the crowded train. "If we missed the train at the cross-roads it would be a serious calamity. I should be obliged to send you on alone; for I _must_ get to New York by night, as I have some very important business to transact for the plantation which must be attended to at once." "Alone!" echoed Daisy, tremblingly. "Why, Uncle John, I was never away from home alone in my life!" "That's just the difficulty," he answered, perplexedly. "I have always guarded my little flower from the world's cruel blasts, and you are unused to the rough side of life." "Still, I _could_ go on alone," persisted Daisy, bravely. John Brooks laughed outright. "You would get lost at the first corner, my girlie! Then I should have to fly around to these newspaper offices, advertising for the recovery of a little country Daisy which was either lost, strayed, or stolen. No, no, little one!" he cried; "I would not trust you alone, a stranger in a great city. A thousand ills might befall a young girl with a face like yours." "No one would know I was a stranger," replied Daisy, innocently. "I should simply inquire the way to Madame Whitney's, and follow the directions given me."