"Where was it, Daisy?"
"Here!"
And Daisy, smiling all the while, lifted Mortimer's hand in hers, and placed it on the braid of hair.
Mortimer started.
"O, Daisy! Daisy! why did you do that?"
The little foot tapped gently on the stone floor.
"Because," said Daisy, dropping her eyes, "because, when I read your note yesterday, I doubted you for a moment: but when I looked at the portrait in your room, I believed you; and I hid the necklace in my hair, and came to ask your pardon."
"Let any misfortune come to me, darling!" said Mortimer, touched with this ingenious act, "let come what will, I am strong! As sure as little Bell looks down from Heaven, you do not wear a stolen necklace. How it came into my hands I cannot tell, without wronging the dead. But, Daisy, it was imprudent for you to run this risk."
"Oh, no; they hunted for something hidden, and could not see what was before their eyes," replied Daisy, giving a quick, low laugh, and then she grew thoughtful again.
"But if they had seen it, Daisy?"