“You seem surprised, Mrs. Fleming, and yet you should not be. You knew quite well that I was Miss Bell’s lover, though I was foolish enough to be frightened off that day when you came to her house and found us together. Well, I repented my haste, returned to-night, and sought an explanation. All is satisfactory, and we will soon be married.” “’Sh-h!” almost hissed Royall Sherwood, while Mrs. Fleming added: “This is terrible--terrible!” “Why is it terrible, madam?” demanded Daisie, with sudden fire; and as the little widow looked at the handsome, spirited couple before her, she longed to strike them dead at her feet because of their love for each other. But at least she had an awful dart for their hearts--an arrow tipped with deadly poison--so, throwing a baleful glance at both, she answered venomously: “It is terrible, Daisie Bell, because, through my fault, a great mistake has been made. The marriage to-night was not sham, but real, and you are legally the wife of my Cousin Royall!” CHAPTER XV. “THE FAULT WAS MINE!” A bolt from heaven could not have stricken Daisie Bell more suddenly from her feet than the words Mrs. Fleming had spoken in such venomous triumph. The poor victim tottered, moaned, and fell; but Dallas caught her in his arms ere she touched the floor, lifting her up tenderly and pressing her close to his breast. “Daisie, my darling, speak to me!” he cried, in wild alarm, for her head fell heavily like a broken flower. Mrs. Fleming cried angrily: “Give her to her husband! It is his right to hold her now! Why do you not take her, Royall?” “Hush, Lutie! I do not understand what you mean. Explain yourself,” Royall replied, with stern brevity, though, if angry, jealous looks could have killed, Dallas might have dropped dead then and there. But Mrs. Fleming, with a start and shudder, exclaimed: “Ah! true, true, you do not know what I have done, Royall; you do not guess that Daisie Bell is really your wife. I must confess the deceit I have practiced on you both. But wait--wait till Daisie revives; for she must hear it all, too.” And even at that moment Daisie trembled in the clasp of her lover, and opened her dazed, blue eyes. “I--oh, what is that matter?” she began; and, gently soothing her, Dallas placed her in her seat, and stood by her side, offering the other seat to Mrs. Fleming. She took it, for the story she had to tell was enough to make her too nervous to stand. Royall stood at the back of her chair, and Dallas by Daisie’s side, in a protecting attitude, but pale as death with dread of what was coming. He said gently to his trembling little love: “Do you feel better? For Mrs. Fleming has a confession to make, if you are strong enough to bear it.” “I am better; let her go on,” Daisie faltered, with pallid lips. Mrs. Fleming, strengthened by the wine she had taken, answered, with glib readiness: