"It is about that money you were so kind as to say I could have," she explained, when they were far down the lawn, and out of hearing of the others. "I want it very much and very soon. It—it will be all right, I hope, and—and not cause you any inconvenience."
"I will bring it, or send it to-morrow," he replied, instantly. "But I still wonder what you intend to do with it."
She smiled archly.
"A good act, I assure you," she replied. "Something of which you would certainly approve, if you knew all the circumstances. You are very kind, and if it was darker here I should be—almost—tempted to kiss you."
He replied that it was growing darker rapidly, and that the requisite shadow could be obtained if they stayed out long enough; but she said she could remain but a few moments, and turned in the direction of the house.
"But, Daisy!" he cried, and then paused. "You—you know there is something of very great importance that I want to talk about. I get so little chance, and I want so much to tell you things. I have been trying to go to your father's office, and I can't find courage."
"I didn't know you were thinking of buying wool," she said, mischievously.
"I want one little lamb, to be my own," he answered, "to love and cherish all my life long. Am I never to have it?"
She sobered before the earnestness of his sad face.
"You are a dear boy," she said, "and I love you. There! Don't say anything more to me to-night. I have made a foolish confession, for which I may yet repent. We must go in. They will be looking for us."