CHAPTER V.

SMALL AND LOW, THOUGH FAIR AS ANY."

WHEN Daisy found herself fairly inside her uncle's house, she summoned up all her courage, and behaved with a certain girlish dignity that was not lost upon the servants. A door opened, and a tall young lady came forward and held out her hand. Her greeting was cold and ceremonious; but Daisy had not looked forward to a warm welcome, and was scarcely disappointed.

Jane will take you at once to your room," said Miss Garnett, with frigid politeness. "We dine at seven; I will send you up tea."

Daisy thanked her briefly, and followed Jane upstairs, holding her dainty little head, perhaps a trifle higher than usual. Not for the world would she let that haughty girl suspect that she wanted to cry; and Rhoda

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Garnett was, on her side, somewhat surprised to find her cousin so self-possessed.

She had made up her mind that Daisy was a clumsy country girl; a young person who was ignorant of all conventionalities, and would put her relatives to the blush. At the sight of the delicate little creature who stood before her, perfectly well-dressed and well-mannered, Rhoda was stricken with astonishment, and so was stiffer and colder than she had meant to be.

When the trunk and portmanteaux were deposited in her room, and the door was closed, Daisy felt herself to be utterly alone indeed. It was a comfortable chamber enough; and her own figure was reflected from head to foot in the looking-glass door of the wardrobe. The sight of her pale, scared face recalled her resolution to be brave. She began, with trembling fingers to take off jacket and hat; and had laid them aside when Jane reappeared with a tea-tray.

"Shall I unpack your things directly, miss?" the maid asked, setting down the tray.

Daisy said yes, and drank her tea with a fair show of composure. Jane's task was quickly done; linen and gowns were carefully stowed away in the drawers and wardrobe, and the new-comer was once more left to herself.

How was she to get through this first dreadful evening in the society of her stranger relatives? It was now past five o'clock, and they would be expecting her below in the drawing-room. First of all there were a few pet treasures to be unpacked, and then she must set about the business of dressing.

A wearisome business it was to poor lonely Daisy; and when all was finished she lingered long before the glass, not in vanity, but in miserable self-distrust.

There was no kind voice to tell her that she looked well. But the graceful black gown set off her slim figure and fair face to the best advantage; and she was, in truth, very pretty, as she timidly entered her uncle's drawing-room.

The doctor himself was not there. He