The grave eyes took on a look of anxiety.
"Daisy not well?" he said as if that were an unheard of thing.
"I should have telephoned you not to come," apologized Mrs. Sheldon, "but this friend of hers—this friend of mine—arrived just then, from out of town, and it slipped my mind. Let me introduce you to Mrs. Dunlap, Nelson. Mrs. Dunlap, Mr. Whitney."
"A friend of Daisy's?" said the young man his grave eyes lighting pleasantly, and he stepped forward and grasped Mrs. Dunlap's hand, giving her a swift searching glance.
"I certainly am!" said Mary Dunlap with a hearty handclasp.
He lingered only a minute or two to leave a message for the daughter about what had happened at the committee meeting, but he gave another keen parting glance accompanied by a warming smile as he left, that made the stranger feel that he approved of her, and that he understood that she was in no wise the cause of the tears that he had seen on Daisy's mother's face.
After he was gone, Mrs. Sheldon came back to her caller.
"Why couldn't it have been that young man?" asked Mary Dunlap with a sigh!
"Oh, if it only could have been!" sighed the mother. "He is the dearest boy! My husband trusted him so. He has been Daisy's schoolmate and companion for years, and yet she could think she has fallen in love with that other creature!"
"There, there, dear friend. I tell you the human heart is a mystery. And a girl at Daisy's age gets queer ideas sometimes. She will come out of it and be fine and beautiful. You see!"