So when Mrs. Fleming came to see him, after the girls had gone away, he wished her godspeed when she told him frankly that she intended to follow Lord Werter to California, and try to win him in spite of all that had passed.
“He is the only man I ever loved, though I have always had plenty of lovers,” she said; “and I was willing to take him, in spite of his seeming obscurity. Now, with his title, he is more desirable than ever, and I mean to throw myself in his way and win him yet if woman’s wit can accomplish it. It will be a relief to you, too, if I get him, for you can never be safe over Daisie until he is married to another.”
“No, never; and I am very sorry he ever turned up again. I hoped in my heart that the fellow was dead. Go in and win if you can, Lutie, and I’ll give you a diamond sunburst worth fifty thousand dollars for a bridal gift!” cried Royall, who felt that the price would be small to pay for security over Daisie; for he was always dreading that she might secure a divorce from him in order to marry her old lover.
Meanwhile, Daisie and Annette had traveled to Gull Beach, and although Aunt Alice was taken by surprise, she was very glad to see her niece, and made her very welcome.
“I thought you would be so fine and gay in your grand New York mansion that you would never care to visit my humble cottage again,” she exclaimed; and Daisie answered evasively:
“I have been leading too gay a life, Aunt Alice, in the whirl of social life, and now I am threatened with nervous prostration; so I must keep very quiet for a few weeks, and I knew your home was the very best haven of rest I could find.”
“Dear knows you’ll find it quiet enough here, and I’ll do my best to make you well again,” replied the old lady cordially, for she was very proud of Daisie and the grand match she had made.
But she soon found that wealth does not always confer happiness; for, day by day, Daisie drooped like a strangely blighted flower, until at last she found that the girl was threatened with a serious illness.
“I don’t like the look of you, Daisie. You’ve been failing steadily ever since you came here, ten days ago. I don’t believe you’ve ever smiled since you came, and you don’t eat as much as a bird. Now you don’t feel well enough to rise from your bed, your face is red and feverish, and your pulse fairly frightens me. I’m going to send for Doctor Burns, and write for your husband to come.”
“No, no—you must not let Mr. Sherwood know unless I should be dying, and—there’s no such luck as that. The wretched are long-lived,” bitterly. “But you may send for Doctor Burns, Aunt Alice, for I believe you are right. I am going to be ill.”