"It's as nice as a fairy tale," Daisy repeated to herself, as she took
her seat in the chaise again and shook up her reins. It was better than
a fairy tale really, for the sunshine coming between the trees from the
sinking sun, made all the world look so beautiful that Daisy thought no
words could tell it. It was splendid to drive through that sunlight. In
a minute or two more she had pulled up her reins short, and almost
before she knew why she had done it or whom she had seen, Mr. Dinwiddie
stood at her side. Here he was. She must not go where ha was; she had
not; he had come to her. Daisy was very glad. But she looked up in his
face now without speaking.

"Ha! my stray lamb," said he, "whither are you running?"

"Home, sir," said Daisy meekly.

"Do you know you have run away from me?"

"Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie."

"How came that?"

"It was unavoidable, sir," said Daisy, in her slow, old-fashioned way.
But the bright eye of the young man saw that her eye fell and her face
clouded over; it was not a slight nor a chance hindrance that had been
in her way, he was sure.

"Then you don't mean to come to me any more?"

It was a dreadful question, but Mr. Dinwiddie's way of speaking was so
clear and quick and business-like, and he seemed to know so well what he