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:
"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.
Thornton nor his wife know aught of the letter, nor will they unless you
respond, for the child will keep her own counsel, I am well assured.