“Will you do something for me, dear?” she said, as Daisy bent to kiss her good-bye. “I want to get my letter to Tom posted this evening, and I am afraid it will be too late when Maggie comes home. I didn’t finish writing until after she went out. It’s right here on the table, all stamped and ready to go. Would it be too much trouble to take it to the letter-box at the corner?” “Of course it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” said Daisy, “only--only----” A warning glance from Miss Polly checked the impetuous words of protest, and with another kiss, she hurried away, in her hand the letter that was to carry to Tom Oliver the news that his sister “preferred spending the summer in New York.” Daisy did not take the letter at once to the post-box on the corner. On the contrary, she carried it back to the nursery, and there laid it down on the desk, where she continued to stare at it for several minutes. She was very pale, but there was a bright, excited expression in her eyes, and her hands twitched nervously. Suddenly she went over to the bed she shared with Dulcie, and dropping down on her knees beside it, closed her eyes, and folded her hands. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered, “please forgive me if what I am going to do is very dreadful. I can’t let poor Miss Polly go on being so unhappy; I am afraid she may die, and then her brother will feel so terribly to think he never knew about how brave and wonderful she’s been. Please tell me if I ought to write the letter, and don’t let Miss Polly be very angry with me when she knows. Amen.” For a few moments the room was very still. Then Daisy rose, and there was a look of settled determination on her face. [Illustration: DAISY TOOK THE TWO LETTERS, FLEW DOWN-STAIRS, AND OUT INTO THE STREET.--_Page 191._] “I think God wants me to do it,” she said, unconsciously speaking out loud. “I feel as if He was telling me I ought to do it.” And, without further hesitation, she seated herself at the desk, and having selected a sheet of paper, began to write. This is what she wrote: “DEAR MR. OLIVER: “I hope you won’t think it very queer to get a letter from a person you don’t know, but I am only a little girl, and if what I am doing is wrong, will you please forgive me? I am afraid Miss Polly will be very angry at first, but perhaps she won’t afterwards, because I am almost sure she would like to have you know about everything, only she is afraid to tell you herself. She is very proud, and she doesn’t want to be a burden, but she loves you better than any one in the world, and it makes her terribly unhappy to have to hurt your feelings.