Mrs. Fleming was lying glibly. She had reserved that rôle--a very conspicuous one--for herself; but to further Royall’s plans, she had decided to give it to Daisie. Aunt Alice here put in frankly: “Daisie can oblige you just as well as not, if she chooses. She doesn’t have to go home till the first of September, and this is only the twenty-fourth of August. The truth is, she was going off in a huff with me because I scolded her for breaking off with your cousin; so I think she ought to stay and help you to-night.” Mrs. Fleming quickly discovered that she had a powerful ally in the old lady; so between them they harassed and worried her into consenting to the plan of Mrs. Fleming, little thinking, poor girl, that she was being cunningly enmeshed in a spider’s web. The widow was exuberant in her thanks, and begged Daisie to come home with her at once in the carriage. “Because we have a rehearsal directly after luncheon,” she said; “and, my dear, you must take your prettiest things with you, for, really, I shall keep you with me several days at Sea View.” In vain were Daisie’s protests, since her delighted aunt joined Mrs. Fleming in a chorus of dissent. So the unhappy girl, blown hither and thither on the winds of destiny, went upstairs and packed up what they directed; and the triumphant little schemer carried her off in triumph, rejoicing inwardly at her success. She was, in fact, very anxious to marry the girl off to Royall, so as to rid herself of a rival should Dallas Bain ever reappear. It was true that a cloud of mystery hung over the young man, and that in his abrupt and hurried leave-taking he had given no hint of his future whereabouts, merely expressing a vague hope that they might some time meet again; but Lutie Fleming knew that, despite the width of the world, the most unexpected rencounters are always happening, and she by no means despaired of meeting Dallas Bain again. “Let me but get Daisie Bell married off safely to Royall, then I will find Dallas again, and wind my toils around him,” she mused, as she rode by Daisie’s side, weaving in her busy mind the details of a plot that would have made her spring from the carriage in dismay had she even guessed at her companion’s thought. But the wondrous X-ray that is to lay bare the secrets of the mind to startled gazers not being discovered yet, Daisie rode on in peace, getting somewhat reconciled now to the prospect of the visit, having, like all healthy young girls, a keen appetite for social pleasures. She knew that she should not forget for a moment her dream of love and its woeful ending, but she thought that participation in the evening’s amusement might dull the keen edge of her pain. Her pride was aroused, too, and she was determined that Mrs. Fleming should not see that she was pining over Dallas Bain’s desertion.