"It suits me better," said Leslie to Stanhope. "The other was too grand. Winnie can throw upon her mother the burden of its stateliness, and Mrs. French will make a charming dowager. I am going to leave my past behind in the old home; and begin a new life in this." "Are you going to leave me behind, with the rest of your past?" he asked. "No," she said smilingly, "you have not lost your value; and if I should turn you out, fresh troubles would arise. I should have to contend with Daisy, and Papa too." And indeed Daisy had given him a prominent place in her affections. "Some of my friends," he said after a pause, "are advising me to abandon the Agency, and embark in some quieter enterprise." "Do you mean that they wish you to give up your profession? to cease to be a detective?" "Yes." "And what did you answer?" "I am seeking advice; give it me." "Any man may be a tradesman," she said slowly. "Nine tenths of mankind can be or are doctors, lawyers, clergymen. The men who possess the skill, the sagacity, and the courage to do what you have done, what you can do again, are very few. To restore lost little ones; to reunite families; to bring criminals to justice, and to defeat injustice,--what occupation can be nobler! If I were such a detective as you, I would never cease to exercise my best gifts." "I never will," he said, taking her hand in his. * * * * * Months passed on; winter went and summer came. Walter Parks lingered in America, his society dearly valued by John Ainsworth and Mr. Follingsbee, his presence always a welcome one in Leslie's dainty parlors, and at Warburton Place. Winnie, who had been a saucy sweetheart and piquant bride, had become a sweetly winsome wife. John Ainsworth was renewing his youth; and Leslie, having passed the period of her widowhood, once more opened her doors to society. [Illustration: "A man of your calling should have guessed that long ago!"--page 461.] Richard Stanhope had become a frequent and welcome guest at Leslie's home, and all his visits little Daisy appropriated at once to herself. Indeed she and Stanhope stood upon a wondrously confidential footing. "Next month comes Mamma's birthday," said Daisy to him one day, when she sat upon his knee in Leslie's pretty flower-decked room. "We're going to have a festival, and give her lots of presents. Are you going to give her a present, Mr. Stanhope?" "I don't know," he said, looking over at Leslie; "your Mamma is such a very particular lady, Daisy, that she might be too proud to accept my offering." "Why," cried the child, "that's just what Uncle Ainsworth says about you: that you are too proud to take a gift from him, and it vexes him, too." "Daisy, Daisy!" cried Leslie, holding up a warning finger. "Your uncle is a very unreasonable man, Daisy," laughed Stanhope. "Now tell me, do you think I had better offer your Mamma a birthday present?"