“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 the sound of their voices was distinctly heard as Mr. McDonald tried to explain what there really was no explanation or excuse for.  Daisy was not contented at Elmwood, and though she complained of nothing, she was not happy as a married woman, and was glad to be free again.  That was all, and Guy understood at last that Daisy was his no longer; that the law which was a disgrace to the State in which it existed had divorced him from his wife without his knowledge or consent, and for no other reason than incompatibility of temperament, and a desire on Daisy’s part to be free from the marriage tie.  Not a word had been said of Guy’s altered fortunes, but he felt that his comparative poverty was really the cause of this great wrong, and for a few moments resentment and indignation prevailed over every other feeling; then, when he remembered the little blue-eyed, innocent-faced girl whom he had loved so much and thought so good and true, he laid his head upon the sofa arm and groaned bitterly, while the man who had ruined him sat coolly by, citing to him many similar cases where divorces had been procured without the knowledge of the absent party.  It was a common—­a very common thing, he said, and reflected no disgrace upon either party where there was no criminal charge.  Daisy was too young and childish anyway, and ought not to have been married for several years, and it was really quite as much a favor to Guy as a wrong.  He was free again—­free to marry if he liked—­he had taken care to see to that, so—­

“Stop!” Guy almost thundered out.  “There is a point beyond which you shall not go.  Be satisfied with taking Daisy from me, and do not insult me with talk of a second marriage.  Had I found Daisy dead it would have hurt me less than this fearful wrong you have done.  I say you, for I charge it all to you.  Daisy could have had no part in it, and I ask to see her and hear from her own lips that she accepts the position in which you and your diabolical laws have placed her before I am willing to give her up.  Call her, will you?”

“No, Mr. Thornton,” Mr. McDonald replied.  “To see Daisy would be useless and only excite you more than you are excited now.  You cannot see her.”

“Yes, he will, father.  If Guy wants to see me, he shall.”

It was Daisy herself who spoke, and who a second time had been acting the part of listener.  Going up to Guy, she knelt down beside him, and, laying her arms across his lap, said to him: 

“What is it, Guy? what is it you wish to say to me?”

The sight of her before him in all her girlish beauty, with that soft, sweet expression on the face raised so timidly to his, unmanned Guy entirely, and, clasping her in his arms, he wept passionately for a moment, while he tried to say: