"CUYLERVILLE, Dec., 18--.

"DEAR MISS MCDONALD--Since saying good-by to you last June, and
going off to the mountains and seaside, while you like a good Samaritan
stayed in the hot city to look after 'your people,' I have flitted
hither and thither until at last I floated out to Cuylerville to visit
Mrs. Guy Thornton, who is a friend and former schoolmate of mine.
Here--not in the house, but in town--I have heard a story which
surprised me not a little, and I now better understand that sad look I
have so often seen on your sweet face without at all suspecting the
cause.

"Dear friend, pardon me, won't you, for the liberty I have taken since
knowing your secret? You would, I am sure, if you only knew what a dear,
darling little creature Mr. Thornton's eldest child is. Did you know he
had called her Daisy for you? He has, and with her blue eyes and bright
auburn hair, she might pass for your very own, with the exception of her
nose, which is decidedly retroussé. She is three years old, and the most
precocious little witch you ever saw. What think you of her making up a
bundle of shawls and aprons and christening it Miss McDolly, her name
for you, and talking to it as if it were really the famous and beautiful
woman she fancies it to be? She is your 'sake-name,' she says, and
before I knew the facts of the case, I was greatly amused by her talk to
the bundle of shawls which she reproached for never having sent her
anything. When I asked Julia (that's Mrs. Thornton) who Miss McDolly
was, she merely answered, 'The lady for whom Daisy was named,' and that
was all I knew until the gossips enlightened me, when, without a word to
anyone, I resolved upon a liberty which I thought I could venture to
take with you. I suggested the letter which I inclose and which I wrote
exactly as the words came from the little lady's lips. Neither Mr.