kind and sweet as ever as he bade Guy good-morning and advanced to shake
his hand. But Guy would not take it. He had always disliked and
distrusted Mr. McDonald, and he felt intuitively that whatever harm had
befallen him had come through the oily-tongued, insinuating man who
stood smilingly before him. With a gesture of disgust he turned away
from the offered hand, and in a voice husky with suppressed excitement,
asked:

"What does all this mean, that when, after a separation of months, I
come for my wife I am told that she is not my wife--that there has been
a--a divorce?"

Guy had brought himself to name the horrid thing, and the very sound of
the word served to make it more real and clear to his mind, and there
were great drops of sweat upon his forehead and about his mouth as he
asked what it meant.

"Oh, Guy, don't feel so badly. Tell him, father, I did not do it," Daisy
cried, as she stood leaning over the stair-rail and looking down at the
wretched man.

"Daisy, go to your room. You should not have seen him at all," Mr.
McDonald said, with more sternness of manner than was usual for him.

Then, turning to Guy, he continued:

"Come in here, Mr. Thornton, where we can be alone while I explain to
you what seems so mysterious now."

They went together into the little parlor, and for half an hour or more