  The Arrest—Doubt and Love—Daisy and the Necklace—The Search—The heart of Daisy Snarle. In an upper room of a miserable, dingy house which faced the spot where the old Brewery used to stand, Edward Walters sat one January evening reading the Express. There was one paragraph among the city items which he had read several times, and each reading seemed to strengthen a determination which had, at the first perusal, grown up with him. "Right or wrong, I'll do it!" With which words he folded the paper, and placed it in his pocket. Daisy, too, read the paragraph that night, and the blood rushed into her cheeks, then left them very pale. It was simply a police report—such as you read over your morning coffee, without thinking how many hearts may be broken by the sight of that little cluster of worn-out type. A young man, no name given, recently a clerk in the house of Messrs. Flint & Snarle, had been arrested on the charge of stealing a case of jewels from his employers. Daisy, with dry eyes, read it again and again. Dark doubt and trusting love were at conflict for a moment; for doubt had pride for its ally, and love was only love. But the woman conquered. Mortimer, who had been arrested early in the forenoon, found means to send Daisy a note, in which he simply said—"I am charged with stealing the necklace, but I am as guiltless of the crime as you, Daisy." Mrs. Snarle came in the room while our little heroine held the note in her hand. "Mother," said Daisy, averting her head, "Mortimer will not come home to-night." With this she threw the note into the fire, and left Mrs. Snarle alone, before the good lady asked any questions. "That's very odd!" soliloquized Mrs. Snarle, briefly. "You tell me that you are innocent," said Daisy, looking at a small portrait of Mortimer which hung over the fire-place—"I do not question, I only believe you!" And then Daisy did a very strange thing, and yet it was very like Daisy. She untied the brown ribbon which bound her dark lengths of hair, allowing them to fall over her shoulders; then she braided the string of pearls with her tresses, and brought the whole in a beautiful band over her forehead. And she looked like a little queen with this coronal of jet and pearl shading her brows. Daisy next picked the jewel-case to pieces, and threw the minute shreds into the street. This was scarcely done, when the door-bell rang impatiently. The girl peeped from the window. The two men at the door-step were not to be mistaken. Daisy's fingers trembled as she undid the fastenings of the door. "We have orders to search this house, miss," said one of the officers, touching the vizor of his cap respectfully. Daisy choked down a sob, and led them with an unnatural calmness from room to room. Every place in the little house was investigated, but in vain; no necklace was to be found. Yet twice the breath of one of the searchers fell on the pearls in Daisy's hair. The two officers left the house in evident chagrin. When they had gone, the girl sat on the stairs and sobbed. Happily for her wishes, Mrs. Snarle had been absent during the search; and thus far had been kept in ignorance of Mortimer's disgrace. But Daisy could not hope to keep it a secret from her long, for they both would probably be summoned as witnesses in open court. The thought of giving evidence against Mortimer went through Daisy's heart like an intense pain. It terrified her, and her warm little heart was floating on tears all day. The cloud which had fallen on her seemed to have no silver lining; all was cold, black and sunless. But there is no mortal wound to which some unseen angel does not bring a balm— "There are gains for all our losses!" Daisy remembered Mortimer's words: "Promise that you will not doubt me, whatever may occur in connection with this necklace—that you will love me, XIII.Ludwick.—Now here's a man half ruined by ill luck, Launcelot.—Ill luck, erratic jade! but yesterday Old Play. |
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