“Yes,” said Daisy, “I will come every day.”
“Some time I may bring my brother with me; you must love him, too, won’t you?”
“I should love any one who had you for a sister,” replied Daisy, clasping the little figure she held still closer in her arms; adding, in her heart: “You are so like him.”
Birdie gave her such a hearty kiss, that the veil twined round her hat tumbled about her face like a misty cloud.
“You must put me down while you fix your veil,” said Birdie. “You can not see with it so. There are huge stones in the path, you would stumble and fall.”
“So I shall,” assented Daisy, as she placed the child down on the soft, green grass.
At that instant swift, springy footsteps came hurriedly down the path, and a voice, which seemed to pierce her very heart, called: “Birdie, little Birdie, where are you?”
“Here, Brother Rex,” called the child, holding out her arms to him with eager delight. “Come here, Rex, and carry me; I have broken my crutch.”
For one brief instant the world seemed to stand still around poor, hapless Daisy, the forsaken girl-bride. The wonder was that she did not die, so great was her intense emotion. Rex was standing before her––the handsome, passionate lover, who had married her on the impulse of the moment; the man whom she loved with her whole heart, at whose name she trembled, of whom she had made an idol in her girlish heart, and worshiped––the lover who had vowed so earnestly he would shield her forever from the cold, cruel world, who had sworn eternal constancy, while the faithful gleaming stars watched him from the blue sky overhead.
Yes, it was Rex! She could not see through the thick, misty veil, how pale his face was in the gathering darkness. Oh, Heaven! how her passionate little heart went out to him! How she longed, with a passionate longing words could not tell, to touch his hand, or rest her weary head on his breast.