and worn, as if the shopping had been very hard upon her. And yet it was
not so much the fatigue of the day which affected her as the remembrance
of a past she did not often dare to recall.

It was at Christmas time years ago that she first met with Guy, and all
the day long, as she turned over piles of shawls and delaines and
flannels, or ordered packages of candy and bonbons and dollies by the
dozen, her thoughts had been with Guy and the time she met him at Leiter
and Field's and he walked home with her. It seemed to her years and
years ago, and the idea of having lived so long made her feel old, and
tired, and worn. But the nice dinner and the cheer of the room revived
her, and her face looked brighter and more rested when she returned to
the parlor and began to show her mother her purchases.

Daisy did not receive many letters except on business, and as these
usually came in the morning she did not think to ask if the postman had
left her anything; and so it was not until her mother had retired and
she was about going to her own room that she saw a letter lying on the
hall-stand. Miss Barker, who had instigated the letter, had never
written to her more than once or twice, and then only short notes, and
she did not recognize the handwriting at once. But she saw it was
postmarked Cuylerville, and a sick, faint sensation crept over her as
she wondered who had sent it, and if it contained news of Guy. It was
long since she had heard of him--not, in fact, since poor Tom's death,
and she knew nothing of the little girl called for herself, and thus had
no suspicion of the terrible shock awaiting her, when at last she broke
the seal. Miss Barker had written a few explanatory lines, which were as
follows: