Frank, open-natured, single-minded, had told her every particular of his visit to Spring Lawn: what he had gone for, what the result had been, and that his uncle the major had assured him of the large sum he might confidently reckon upon inheriting under Mrs. Atkinson's will. To this hour Frank knew not the full truth of Mrs. St. Clare's altered manner; for Margaret, in her delicacy, did not give him a hint as to Eagles' Nest. "Mamma thinks that you--that you are not rich enough to marry," poor Margaret had said, stammering somewhat in the brief explanation. But, as he was now pointing out to Margaret with all his eloquence, the time could not be very far off when he should be quite rich enough. "Shall you not consider it so, Daisy? When I have joined some noted man in London, to be paid well for my present services, with the certainty of being his partner at no distant date? We should have a charming house; I would take care of that; and every comfort within it. Not a carriage; not luxuries; I could not attempt that at first; but we could afford, in our happiness, to wait for them." "Oh yes," murmured Daisy, thinking that it would be Paradise. "If I fully explain all this to your mother----" "It would be of no use; she would not listen," interrupted Daisy. "I--I have not told you all she said, Frank; I have not liked to tell you. One thing we may rest assured of--she will never, never give her consent." "But she must give it, Daisy. Does she suppose we could give each other up? You and I are not children, to be played with; to be separated without rhyme or reason." "In a short time--I do not know how short--mamma intends to shut up The Mount and take me and Lydia to Switzerland and Italy. It may be _years_ before we come back again, Frank; years and years. I dare say I should never see you again." "I'm sure you speak very calmly about it, Daisy! Almost as if you liked it!" Looking down at her he met her reproachful eyes and the sudden tears the words had called up in them. "My darling, what is to be done? You cannot go abroad with them: you must remain in England." "As if that would be possible!" breathed Daisy. "I have no one to stay with; no relatives, or anything. And if I had, mamma would not leave me." "I wish I could marry you off-hand!" cried thoughtless Frank, speaking more in the impulse of the moment than with any real meaning in what he said. Daisy sighed: and put her cheek against his arm. And what with one word and another, they both began to think it might be. Love is blind, and love's arguments, though specious, are sadly delusive. In a few minutes they had grown to think that an immediate marriage, as private as might be, was the only way to save them from perdition. That is, to preserve them one to another: and that it would be the very best mode of proceeding under their untoward lot.