“Oh, if you really want to do me a kindness, you must help me with Dallas. He is at your house, and you will see him when you go back. Won’t you tell him how it all came about, that I love only him, and ask him to forgive me and come back to me again?”
She did not know that she was pleading to a woman who loved Dallas so madly that she would rather have seen him dead than married to another; but somehow she could not believe the story that he had proposed to Lutie Fleming and been refused. Daisie believed that any woman would be glad to accept such a splendid lover. She told herself that the artful young widow was just trying to shield her cousin and to further his cause.
Mrs. Fleming said decisively:
“I decline to speak to Dallas Bain on this subject, or to work against my cousin’s interests in any way, and I believe that when you come to your sober senses, girl, you will be glad enough to keep this affair a secret and marry Royall, after all.”
So saying, she swept from the room and rustled out to her carriage, nodding a careless greeting to Annette Janowitz, who was just entering the gate, and who went in the open doors with a friendly familiarity, and found Daisie sobbing with hysterical grief on her sofa.
“Oh, my poor dear, is your foot so bad?” queried she, with quick sympathy; and presently she drew from her friend the story of the morning’s happenings.
“Oh, Annette, I cannot give him up! I love him so dearly! You will help me to win him back, won’t you, dear?”
“Indeed, I will, if you will only tell me what I can do for you,” responded Annette, the tears of sympathy shining in her bright dark eyes.
Daisie thought a few moments, very seriously, and then announced her plan:
“Write him a friendly note, Annette, asking him to call at your house this evening and see you about a very particular matter. Don’t mention my name, or, in his first resentment, he might refuse to come.”