"I suppose I must go now if I catch the train," she said, moving toward the door. "Good-bye, Fanny. I am sorry I ever troubled you." She held her little white ungloved hand toward me and then I came to myself, and hearing the wind and rain, and remembering the lonely road to the station, I said to her: "Stay, Daisy, I cannot let you go alone. Miss Hamilton will watch with Guy while I go with you." "And who will come back with you? It will be just as dark and rainy then," she said; but she made no objection to my plan, and in less than five minutes Julia, who always slept in her dressing-gown so as to be ready for any emergency, was sitting by Guy, and I was out in the dark night with Daisy and our watch-dog Leo, who, at sight of his old playmate, had leaped upon her and nearly knocked her down in his joy. "Leo is glad to see me," Daisy said, patting the dumb creature’s head, and in her voice there was a rebuking tone, which I resented silently. I was not glad to see her, and I could not act a part, but I wrapped my waterproof around her and adjusted the hood over her hair, and thought how beautiful she was, even in that disfiguring garb, and then we went on our way, the young creature clinging close to me as peal after peal of thunder rolled over our heads, and gleams of lightning lit up the inky sky. She did not speak to me, nor I to her, till the red light on the track was in sight, and we knew the train was coming. Then she asked timidly: "Do you think Guy will die?" "Heaven only knows," I said, checking a strong impulse to add: "If he does, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you killed him." I am glad now that I did not say it. And I was glad then, when Daisy, alarmed perhaps by something in the tone of my voice, repeated her question: "But do _you_ think he will die? If I thought he would I should wish to die too. I like him, Miss Frances, better than any one I ever saw; like him now as well as I ever did, but I do not want to be his wife, nor anybody’s wife, and that is just the truth. I am sorry he ever saw me and loved me so well. Tell him that, Fanny." It was Fanny again, and she grasped my hand nervously, for the train was upon us. "Promise me solemnly that if you think he is surely going to die you will let me know in time to see him once more. Promise,—quick,—and kiss me as a pledge." The train had stopped. There was not a moment to lose, and I promised, and kissed the red lips in the darkness, and felt a remorseful pang when I saw the little figure go alone into the car which bore her swiftly away, while I turned my steps homeward with only Leo for my companion.