If Rex had dropped down from the clouds she could not have been more startled and amazed at finding him in such close proximity away down in Florida.
She remembered he had spoken to her of his mother, as he clasped her to his heart out in the starlight of that never-to-be-forgotten night, whispering to her of the marriage which had been the dearest wish of his mother’s heart.
She remembered how she had hid her happy, rosy, blushing face on his breast, and asked him if he was quite sure he loved her better than Pluma Hurlhurst, the haughty, beautiful heiress.
“Yes, my pretty little sweetheart, a thousand times better,” he had replied, emphatically, holding her off at arm’s-length, watching the heightened color that surged over the dainty, dimpled face so plainly discernible in the white, radiant starlight.
Daisy rested her head on one soft, childish hand, and gazed thoughtfully up at the cold, brilliant stars that gemmed the heavens above her.
“Oh, if you had only warned me, little stars!” she said. “I was so happy then; and now life is so bitter!”
A sudden impulse seized her, strong as her very life, to look upon his face again.
“I would be content to live my weary life out uncomplainingly then,” she said.
Without intent or purpose she walked hurriedly back through the pansy-bordered path she had so lately traversed.