By dinner time most of the girls knew that Miss Juliet Craven was really an heiress, and that her guardian was the great banker and lawyer as well, and who was occasionally called upon to disentangle some very intricate points, Mr. James Elliot Davis. CHAPTER XV BETWIXT TWO "And you knew it all the time!" Daisy Bell cried indignantly. She sat curled up on her bed, her soft, pretty hair let down about her shoulders, her arms folded across her chest as if she would shut out any pleading tone from her heart, if indeed it was her heart whose racing pulsation could decide for her, and keep or banish a guest. "Not all the time," corrected Helen. "She told me a little of her story, told it briefly, I mean, and left me to infer the rest; explained _why_ she wanted an education, and the almost accident of her coming here. She seemed so lonely at Christmas-tide when so many of you were away in happy homes, having delightful times with plenty of love and joy and good cheer. Well, I felt rather lonely as well." "And then I came back to you with a heart full of love, and she had crept in. Why didn't you tell me----" Daisy's voice trembled and she loosened one hand to wipe her eyes. Helen was much moved. "There really was nothing to tell. We had made no vows, exchanged no promises, broken no rings," with a scornful little laugh. "I set her straight on two or three points, I scolded her a little, yes, I just did, and I wanted her to mix with, and be more like other girls. I don't believe you, with joyous homes and brothers and sisters, can understand the lonely life she has led." "As _you_ can," with a touch of girlish sarcasm. "Yes, as I can. I have a kindly uncle and aunt, who have cared for me since father died, and a lot of cousins growing up into commonplace men and women. There are dozens of tender ties, but no real sympathy with my desires. Aunt thought I knew quite enough, and so I would for some lives. The longing and desire for other things, better things, helps me to understand her. But it was only a week or ten days ago--some strictures of the girls made her very unhappy----" "She shouldn't have listened. The old adage is a good one," with a scornful laugh. "She could not help it. I think some of the girls have not treated her kindly, they have even been rude. And it was mean to try to set her age so much farther on, and to call her an old maid." "She doesn't look young." "She will have a guardian for almost two years longer. I suppose in law you have to give your exact age. Some of the people I love best are very far from young." "I suppose you love a great many!" with an emphasis as bitter as her tender voice could make. She could put anger in it, but bitterness never could be part and parcel of it. "I love a few. I am not very rich in friends. But I know I am capable of loving a good many people for different qualities."