is asleep, and I came out here."
"I have wanted to see you so much, Daisy," said Frank, as he gave her his arm, and they passed under the broad elm-trees. "My aunt, Mrs. Atkinson, is dead."
"We saw it in the papers," answered Daisy.
"It is from her that I expect money, you know. Every day, I look for a letter from my uncle Francis, telling me what sum it is that I inherit. And then I shall present myself to your mother. I have so longed to tell you this."
"I have longed to see you," returned Daisy, her pulses beating wildly with various and very mixed feelings, her face flushing and paling. "I—I—I want to ask you something, Frank."
"Ask away, my love," was his reply. But he noticed her emotion.
"Perhaps you will not answer me?"
"Indeed I will, Daisy. Why not?"
"It is about—Rosaline Bell." She could scarcely get