"I wash my hands of it altogether, Mr. Frank Raynor, of her and of you, as I said I would—though you may be sure that when I spoke I never contemplated so extreme a step as this. But that I cannot disbelieve what, as you say, is so easily proved, I should have thought it impossible to be true. Daisy has always been docile and dutiful."
"I will make her the best of husbands; she shall never know an hour's care with me," spoke Frank earnestly, his truthful blue eyes and the sincerity of his face expressing more than words could do.
"But what of your means of keeping her?" asked Mrs. St. Clare, coldly.
"By the aid of the three thousand pounds I have mentioned, I shall obtain a first-class practice in London," returned he in his most sanguine manner. "I trust you will not despise that position for her. If I am very successful, I might even some day be made a baronet, and Daisy would be Lady Raynor.
"A charming prospect!" returned Mrs. St. Clare, in mocking tones, that rather took Frank and his earnestness aback. "Well, I wash my hands of you both, Mr. Francis Raynor. As Daisy has made her bed so must she lie on it."
Daisy was summoned to the conference. She came in with timid steps; and stood, tearful and trembling, in her pretty morning dress of pale muslin. It chanced to be the one she was married in. Frank Raynor drew her arm within his, and stood with her.
"You may well shrink from me, unhappy girl!" cried Mrs. St. Clare. "What have you done with your wedding-ring?"
With trembling hands, Daisy produced it, attached to its blue ribbon. Frank took it from her, broke the ribbon, and placed the ring on its proper finger.
"Never again to be taken off, my dear," he said. "Our troubles are over."
She was to be allowed to remain at the Mount until the afternoon—which Mrs. St. Clare called a great concession—and then she and Frank would start on the first stage of their journey. Daisy might take a box of apparel with her; the rest should be forwarded to any address she might choose to give.