There is an evil spirit, and a very powerful one, that holds the wires which move some of us puppets. The good are made to take the humblest seats in the world's Synagogue, and the wily and the evil-hearted are clothed in purple, fed on honey, and throned in the highest places. There will be a surprising revolution some of these times. As Mr. Sparrow-grass would say, a revolution is "a good thing to have in the country." XII. _Why, true, her heart was all humanity, Her soul all God's; in spirit and in form, Like fair. Her cheek had the pale, pearly pink Of sea-shells, the world's sweetest tint, as though She lived, one-half might deem, on roses sopped In silver dew; she spoke as with the voice Of spheral harmony which greets the soul, When, at the hour of death, the saved one knows His sister angel's near: her eye was as The golden pane the setting sun doth just Imblaze, which shows, till heaven comes down again, All other lights but grades of gloom; her dark, Long rolling locks were as a stream the slave Might search for gold, and searching find._ FESTUS. XII. WHAT DAISY DID. _The Arrest--Doubt and Love--Daisy and the Necklace--The Search--The heart of Daisy Snarle._ In an upper room of a miserable, dingy house which faced the spot where the old Brewery used to stand, Edward Walters sat one January evening reading the _Express_. There was one paragraph among the city items which he had read several times, and each reading seemed to strengthen a determination which had, at the first perusal, grown up with him. "Right or wrong, I'll do it!" With which words he folded the paper, and placed it in his pocket. Daisy, too, read the paragraph that night, and the blood rushed into her cheeks, then left them very pale. It was simply a police report--such as you read over your morning coffee, without thinking how many hearts may be broken by the sight of that little cluster of worn-out type. A young man, no name given, recently a clerk in the house of Messrs. Flint & Snarle, had been arrested on the charge of stealing a case of jewels from his employers. Daisy, with dry eyes, read it again and again. Dark doubt and trusting love were at conflict for a moment; for doubt had pride for its ally, and love was only love. But the woman conquered. Mortimer, who had been arrested early in the forenoon, found means to send Daisy a note, in which he simply said--"I am charged with stealing the necklace, but I am as guiltless of the crime as you, Daisy." Mrs. Snarle came in the room while our little heroine held the note in her hand. "Mother," said Daisy, averting her head, "Mortimer will not come home to-night." With this she threw the note into the fire, and left Mrs. Snarle alone, before the good lady asked any questions. "That's very odd!" soliloquized Mrs. Snarle, briefly.