Isaac's pointing thumb left no doubt as to his meaning. "O no no, indeed," said Daisy hurriedly. "O, father. It's nothing of that sort. You mustn't think so for a moment, for it's quite untrue." "Who was it, if it wasn't she?" demanded Isaac. "It was somebody else," said Daisy; "somebody who got in through your window, and who had man's boots. The police know that, but they can't tell who it was. Nobody can tell. Only it was a man, father, not a woman." "When ever is the money a-going to be found?" demanded Isaac. He had asked that question often of Mary Davis during the last month, as she had cared for him and tended him in his helplessness, toiling hard without hope of reward, for love of Daisy; and she had answered often, to soothe him, "Oh, I dare say it won't be long first, Mr. Meads. You must have patience." But Daisy laid her hand upon his, and said gently, "I think—perhaps—never, father." "Never!" echoed Isaac, with a tremulous start. "I think perhaps not," said Daisy. "I'll tell you why father. I think you have loved the gold so much that it has kept you back from caring about God and Heaven. And so it has had to be taken away. And I don't much expect it will ever come back, because then you might love it again too much, and that would be so dreadful." "So dreadful!" repeated Isaac mechanically, not as if he understood. "Yes, dreadful," echoed Daisy's soft voice. "It is a dreadful thing, father, to love money more than you love God. I think that must be why the gold has gone." Isaac caught up the words, and broke anew into his sorrowful cry. "It's gone, Daisy," he moaned, "all gone! I'm a poor man now. I haven't anything left." She let him say this over and over, as he seemed disposed, but presently she chimed in with, "Yes, father, it's all gone—all gone. You haven't anything left." The two women looked on curiously, half inclined to remonstrate, yet half disposed to think that Daisy knew well what she was about. "It's all gone, Daisy," repeated Isaac once more and he burst into tears. "Yes; I'm so glad, father," said Daisy. The old man looked up at her in startled wonderment, and Daisy smiled. "I'm so glad it is gone, so very glad," she said. "Why, Daisy—you don't know what you're a-saying," protested Isaac. "Why, Daisy! you'd have been a rich woman one day, with lots of gold, and now there'll be near upon nothing for you, It's all gone!" and the last word sounded like a sob. "I don't want to be rich," said Daisy. "I don't care about riches, father. They wouldn't make me happy. I'd a great great deal rather be poor now for a few years, than see you poor, up to the very end." "See me poor!" said Isaac, perplexed. "Father, having gold doesn't make a man rich," said Daisy. "You've had gold, but you have been poor. I want to see you free and rich now, able to think of something better." "Something better!" repeated Isaac helplessly.