His tone was considerate and tender; he stooped unexpectedly and kissed her forehead. Daisy made no response: she passively endured the caress, and that was all. The tears sprang to her eyes. Frank did not see them: he carried his letter into the surgery, where very much of his home time was passed. His thoughts were far away. Would Mr. Blase Pellet tolerate this anticipated removal when it came? Or, would he not rather dodge Frank's footsteps and establish himself where he could still keep him in view? Yes: Frank felt certain that he would. Unconscious though Frank was of his wife's supervision, he felt persuaded in his mind that he was ever subjected to that of Blase Pellet. It was not, in one sense of the word, offensive; for not once in three months did he and Pellet come into contact with each other: but Frank felt always as a man chained--who can go as far as the chain allows him, but no farther. With all his heart he wished that he could better his position for Daisy's sake; had long wished it; but in his sense of danger he had been contented to let things go on as they were, dreading any attempt at change. Over and over again had he felt thankful for the prolonged wanderings of Mr. Max Brown, which afforded him the plea for putting up with his present lot. Daisy set on with her discontented face. A very pretty face still; prettier, if anything, than of yore; with the clear eyes and their amber light, the delicate bloom on the lovely features, the sunny, luxuriant hair. She often dressed daintily, wishing in her secret heart, in spite of her resentment, to win back her husband's allegiance. This evening she wore a dark blue silk, one of the remnants of better days, with some rich white lace falling at the throat, on which rested a gold locket, attached to a thin chain. Very, very pretty did Edina think her when she arrived, and was brought into the room by Frank. "You never come to see me now," began Daisy, in fretful tones of complaint. "I might be dead and buried, for all you or any one else would know of it, Edina." "Ah, no, Margaret, you might not," was Edina's answer. "Not while you have Frank at your side. If you really needed us, he would take care that we should be sent for." "All the same, every one neglects me," returned Daisy. "I am glad you have thought of me at last." "I came this evening with a purpose," said Edina: who would not urge in excuse the very little time she had to give to visiting, for Daisy must be quite aware of it. And she forthwith, loosening her bonnet-strings, told Frank of Mr. Street's visit, of its purport, and of their own conjectures at Laurel Cottage after the banker had departed. "Why, yes, it was I who emptied that ebony desk," said Frank. "A false bottom! I really can't believe it, Edina. Some of us would have found it out." "We cannot doubt Mr. Street. He knew nothing of it himself, you hear, until Mr. George Atkinson spoke about it."