"No, child. Neither could Frank be spared. It would have taken three days, you see, to go and return comfortably." Rising from the tea-table as soon as he could make a decent excuse for it, for he had no business calls on his time this evening, Frank set off on his usual walk to The Mount. On five evenings, since Edina left, had he so gone; but never with any success: not once had Daisy come out to him. She was being watched closer than ever. "And I suppose I shall have my walk for nothing this evening also!" thought Frank, as he plucked a wild-rose from a fragrant roadside hedge. "This shall not go on long: but I should like to present myself to Mrs. St. Clare with an assured sum to start us in life. I wonder Uncle Francis does not write! He must know I am anxious--if he thinks about it at all. Up to his ears in his new interests, he forgets other people's." Fortune favoured Frank this evening. As he approached the outer gate of The Mount, he saw Daisy standing at it, very much to his surprise. "Mamma's lawyer has come over on business, and she is shut up with him," began Daisy, her eyes dancing with delight. "She told me to go up to Lydia, but Lydia is asleep, and I came out here." "I have wanted to see you so much, Daisy," said Frank, as he gave her his arm, and they passed under the broad elm-trees. "My aunt, Mrs. Atkinson, is dead." "We saw it in the papers," answered Daisy. "It is from her that I expect money, you know. Every day, I look for a letter from my uncle Francis, telling me what sum it is that I inherit. And then I shall present myself to your mother. I have so longed to tell you this." "I have longed to see you," returned Daisy, her pulses beating wildly with various and very mixed feelings, her face flushing and paling. "I--I--I want to ask you something, Frank." "Ask away, my love," was his reply. But he noticed her emotion. "Perhaps you will not answer me?" "Indeed I will, Daisy. Why not?" "It is about--Rosaline Bell." She could scarcely get the words out for agitation. Frank was startled. It was quite evident that he was unprepared for any such topic. It seemed to _frighten_ him. Else why that sudden change of countenance, that sudden dropping of Daisy's arm? Her heart fell. "What of her?" asked Frank, quite sharply. For in truth he believed Daisy was about to question him, not of Rosaline herself, but of that mysterious rumour connected with her father and the Bottomless Shaft; and it grated terribly on all his nerves. "I see it is true," gasped Daisy. "Oh! why did you marry _me?_" "What is true?" returned Frank, unpleasantly agitated. "That you--that you--were fond of Rosaline Bell. You loved her all along. Before you loved me!" The charge was so very different from what he had been fearing, that Frank felt for the moment bewildered: bewildered in the midst of his inexpressible relief. He stood still, turned so that Daisy faced him, and gazed into her eyes.