He remained perfectly silent, and all at once Daisy Lynn slid out of her chair and knelt in child-like humility at his feet. "Oh, sir, have pity on me!" she prayed. "Go away, and leave me in peace! I am not insane, whatever any one may say. That was but a temporary spell, and, under the care of the kind friend to whom Heaven directed me that awful night, I soon recovered my reason. A wrecked love had made me mad, but that is all over now. Only--only you would not be able to convince them of it. So I--I do not want to go back. Oh, God! I shall go mad, indeed, if I am sent again to that dreadful place! Mr. Wren, perhaps you have a sister of your own. Think of her, and, for sweet pity's sake, do not betray me to my enemies, who, under the guise of friends, would work me the bitterest woe!" A light broke in upon his mind. "The girl is insane. That explains everything." He was a stern man, inured to trying scenes, but his heart stirred with pity for her, so young, so beautiful, and--insane. He went up to her as she rose and sunk feebly into her chair. Touching her kindly on the shoulder, he said: "I am very, very sorry for you, but it is better that you should return to your friends. They are almost broken-hearted over your disappearance, and have sent me here for you. Now, get your bonnet, like a good girl, and come with me." "I can not go back to them. I would rather die," sobbed Daisy Lynn; and when he insisted, she grew frantic and rebellious. "I--will--not--go!" she cried. "They will put me in a horrible lunatic asylum, although I am not mad. Oh, Mr. Wren, have pity on a most unfortunate young girl! Go away and tell them you could not find me. Heaven will bless you for your goodness." He thought it was a very good proof of her insanity that she expected Heaven to bless him for telling a falsehood for her sake, and smiled indulgently as he said: "My dear young lady, think of the distress of your lover if I go back without you--the rich, handsome young man you have promised to marry." An expression of blended pain and scorn crossed the lovely face. "Do not speak to me of _him_," she cried, passionately. "It was his falsity that wrecked my life. But that brief madness has passed. I am sane now, and I scorn him as much as I once loved him." Oh, the imperial scorn with which she drew her graceful form erect, the fire that flashed from her lovely eyes! He said to himself that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever beheld. "It is not _he_, my false lover, that wants me; I am sure of that. It is my aunt that has sent you," she continued. "No, it is your uncle, Mr. Carew," he replied. "But I have no uncle," she replied, in surprise. He was nonplused at her persistence in deception, and said, with rising impatience: "You must really go with me and see Mr. Carew. If there is any mistake he will detain you but a few minutes." "Will you not go and bring him here?" she asked, beseechingly.