As they pedaled along on their shining wheels, both so beautiful, though as different as night and morning in their dark and light types, they attracted much attention and admiration; but their thoughts were too busy with recent events to notice it. Daisie seemed to be charmed over the knowledge that her afflicted husband had secured so suitable a companion.
“He will have no more lonely hours now, with this delightful man to amuse him. Oh, what a burden it lifts from my mind!” she cried gladly.
“Are you learning to love Royall at last, Daisie?” exclaimed Annette.
The dark-blue eyes turned a sweet, sad gaze on the other’s face.
“I love Royall as a friend or a brother—that is all; but I pity him so—I pity him so!” she sighed.
“Perhaps, if he should grow strong and well, some time you might learn to love him as a husband?”
A sudden pallor drifted over the blooming face, flushed by the exercise of wheeling.
“I—I—am afraid not,” Daisie answered sadly; adding: “Oh, Annette, all my love was given once, and thrown back upon my heart! After such a shock I can never love again.”
And her thoughts flew back in anguish to that night when she had been so cruelly sundered from Dallas Bain by the plotting of Royall and his cousin—plotting that she never could have forgiven had it not been proved to her afterward that Dallas Bain was unworthy of her love.
Oh, the bitterness of that knowledge! Could she ever forget the anguish of the first days after she woke to the truth—the crushing struggle between love and pride—the humiliation of knowing that he had deserted her for silly, chattering Letty, Mrs. Fleming’s servant?