"Come along, Miss Daisy," she exclaimed; "'tis time we was a-moving home, and you mustn't trouble the gentleman no further, missy." "I s'ant go home, and I will stay," responded Daisy, her face growing very red as she clung to her new friend. The man put his arm round her in delight. "Sit down, my girl," he said, addressing Anne, "the little miss is not troubling me. Quite the contrary, she reminds me of a little lassie I used to know once, and she had the same name too, Daisy. Daisy Wilson was her name. Now this little kid is so like her that I shouldn't a bit wonder if she was a relation--perhaps her daughter. Shall I tell you what your two names are, little one?" Daisy nodded her head and looked up expectantly. Anne, hoping no harm was done, and devoured with curiosity, resumed her seat. "Your mamma's name was Daisy Wilson. You are her dear little daughter, and your name is Daisy Harman. Well, I'm right, ain't I?" The man's face was now crimson, and he only waited for Daisy's reply to clasp her to his breast. But Daisy, in high delight at his mistake, clapped her pretty hands. "No, no," she said, "you're quite wrong. Guess again, guess again." Instantly his interest and excitement died out. He pushed the child a trifle away, and said,-- "I made a mistake. I can't guess." "I'm Daisy Home," replied Daisy, "and my mamma was never no Daisy Wilson. Her name is Sarlotte Home." The stranger put Daisy gently from his lap, and the discovery which was to affect so many people might never have been made but for Anne, who read the _Family Herald_, was burning with anxiety and wonder. Many kinds of visions were flashing before her romantic young eyes. This man might be very rich--very, very rich. He must have something to say to them all. She had long ago identified herself with the Home family. This man was coming to give them gold in abundance. He was not so beautiful to look at, but he might be just as valuable as the pretty lady of Harold's dreams. That pretty lady had not come back, though Anne had almost prayed for her return. Yes, she was sure this man was a relation. It was highly probable. Such things were always happening in the _Family Herald_. Raising her shrill, high-pitched voice, she exclaimed,-- "Miss Daisy, you're too young to know, or may be you furgets. But I think the gen'leman is near right. Yer mamma's name wos Harman afore she married yer papa, missy, and I ha' seen fur sure and certain in some old books at the house the name o' Daisy Wilson writ down as plain as could be, so maybe that wor yer grandma's name afore she married too." At these words the stranger caught Daisy up and kissed her.