"Will you write to let him know? You will, of course. Write
just as usual, child; the letter will reach him."

"Why should I, Miss Cardigan? what use? He cannot come to see
me."

"Why not?"

"I would not dare. My guardian watches me well; and he would
not like my seeing Mr. Thorold of all people."

"Why not? Ah, child! there is a rose leaf in each of your
cheeks this minute. That tells the story. Then, Daisy, you had
better not go to Washington. Christian will not bear that very
well; and it will be hard for you too. My dear, it will be
hard."

"Yes, ma'am - and hard not to go. I shall go, Miss Cardigan."

"And mayn't I tell him you are there?"

"No, ma'am. If I can, I will let him know somehow."

But a sense of the difficulties, dangers, doubts and
uncertainties, thronging my way, therewith pressed heavily
upon me; and I sat in silence and weariness, while Miss
Cardigan put up her work and ordered tea, and finally went off
to her greenhouse. Presently she came back with a rose in her
hand and held it under my face. It was a full dewy sweet
damask rose, rich and fragrant and lovely as such a rose can