KATHLEEN AND DAISY MEET AT LAST.

It was the day following Kathleen's petulant rejection of her cousin's love, and the young girl, embarrassed by Chester's grieved and dejected looks, had gone to her room to nurse in solitude the pain at her heart.

"Why does no one come to me? Am I forgotten by my uncle, Mrs. Stone, and Teddy? Their silence and delay is very, very strange," she murmured, sadly; and just then she heard a low murmur of voices in the parlor, where she had left Mrs. Franklyn and Chester a while ago, pleading a headache as an excuse for retiring to her room.

"They have company. I am glad I came upstairs," she thought, feeling far too dejected to meet strangers.

The murmur of voices continued a while, then the front door closed, and Kathleen thought the guests were leaving.

Directly afterward, Mrs. Franklyn entered the room with an excited face.

"Kathleen, do you remember the strange story you told us about Daisy Lynn?" she asked. "Well, she is here in this house! She is no more insane than you are, and is your living image—only, perhaps, not quite as pretty. She knows all you suffered in her place, and is just dying to meet you. Will you come down?"

"I should like to have her come up here," answered Kathleen, who felt as if she would like to be quite alone at first with Daisy Lynn, the fair young girl whose line of life had so strangely and tragically crossed her own.

Mrs. Franklyn understood her wish, and a few minutes afterward she led Daisy to Kathleen's door and gently withdrew.

They looked at each other—the two beautiful young creatures—then they smiled at the likeness they saw in each other's faces. At that smile their hearts leaped to each other.

"Daisy Lynn! Oh, you poor darling!" cried Kathleen, holding out her arms.

Daisy ran into them. They kissed, then wept together.

They sat down side by side on the bed, like two sisters, and wept like little children for a while; then Daisy wiped her eyes, and said, piteously:

"Oh, Miss Carew, can you ever forgive me?"

"It was not your fault, Daisy, darling. But you must call me Kathleen; you know we are not strangers to each other. I know all about you. I have lived at your home, slept in your pretty room, and—can you ever forgive me, dear?—I read your sweet diary! I was so lonely and so curious over the girl whose identity had become mixed with mine."

"It was very silly, was it not?—that is all I regret about it," Daisy Lynn answered, blushing crimson. Then she looked fearlessly into Kathleen's eyes as she added: "But I am cured now. I despise him. I could not love him now if he begged me on his knees!"

"I am glad of that, dear, for he was not worthy of you," said Kathleen, fervently.

"You know him?" cried the other girl, in surprise, and then Kathleen told her all about her wicked step-brother.

She was rejoiced to see how disgusted Daisy Lynn became with the accomplished villain who had once been the hero of her girlish dreams.

"But, Daisy, tell me where you have been all this time?" said Kathleen, curiously; and Daisy smiled as she answered:

"Most of the time with an old couple in the country, to whose lonely little house I wandered that night after I escaped from my keeper and wandered into the woods. You see, Kathleen, I was not violently insane, only sort of melancholy mad for a while; and because I foolishly attempted to poison myself, an incompetent physician pronounced me mad, and persuaded my aunt to send me to a lunatic asylum. Well, in my horror and grief I confided my cruel distress to those good old people, and they believed me and pitied me. They let me stay with them, and were as good to me as if they had been my parents. A few months ago the good old man died, and his gentle old wife soon followed him to the grave. Then the little farm passed into the ownership of a distant connection of theirs, Lawyer Perkins, of Richmond. He employed me to teach his children."

She went on then and told Kathleen how strangely the detective had found her, and all that had happened afterward.

"So Uncle Ben is alive, thank Heaven! I must go to him!" cried Kathleen, springing to her feet in wild excitement.

"No, dear, for Mr. Wren has gone to bring them here to you. Mrs. Franklyn told him you were here," replied Daisy; then she started as a low rap sounded on Kathleen's door.

When she opened it, there was Chester, looking so remorseful and dejected that her tender heart leaped with pity for his woe.

"May I speak to you alone for one moment, dear cousin?" he asked, humbly.

She went out into the little hall with him, and Chester manfully confessed his sin, and humbly begged her forgiveness.

"All my foolish plans for keeping you away from your own true lover and winning you for myself have come to naught. Heaven watched over you, dear Kathleen, and foiled my selfish love. Oh, Heaven! how ashamed I am, how wretched! and you can never forgive me!"

"Yes, I can," answered the girl, nobly. She pressed his hand gently in hers as she added: "I forgive you, dear cousin, and I will forget all about it, and remember nothing but that I owe you my life."

"God bless you!" he said, chokingly, and went down-stairs. But he was not brave enough to meet his rival yet. He went away for a long walk, unwilling to witness the meeting between Kathleen and her betrothed, the man that Jack Wren said was so rich and handsome. Poor fellow! he might have felt happier had he known how little Kathleen cared for Teddy. It was Ralph who filled all her thoughts, hopeless as they were.

"Love is a tyrant that has no mercy. I wish I could forget all my past!" she sighed nightly to her pillow; but Shelley's lines would recur to her with cruel pathos:

Chester had scarcely left the house before the detective returned with Mr. Carew and Teddy Darrell. Kathleen flew down-stairs, vouchsafed Teddy a sedate kiss, and fell into her uncle's arms.