"Did you give your Egyptian spoon to your aunt Gary?"

"I said she might have it, papa."

"Unwillingly?"

"No, papa ? willingly."

"In exchange for this doll?"

"Oh, no, papa ? not in exchange for anything. I did not want any exchange."

"If I remember, Daisy," said Mr. Randolph, "your aunt Gary desired to have that spoon the very day it was given to you; and I thought you did not wish she should have it?"

"No, papa ? so I didn't."

"Your mind changed afterward?"

"I do not think my mind changed," said Daisy, slowly ? "but I was willing she should have it."

"Daisy, this whole affair is a mystery to me yet. In this case, why was it not kind in your aunt to bestow this French doll upon you? It seems to me very kind."

"Yes papa ? you do not understand."

"Make me understand. Daisy, I command you to tell me all that you have not told me. You need not think of anything now, except my command."

Daisy did, perhaps; for now her lip quivered slightly; and for a moment she hid her face, in her father's bosom. Mr. Randolph wrapped his arms round her and stooped his head to hear the story which Daisy was obliged to give. She gave it fully, and he heard it quite through in silence. And he made no observation upon it when it was finished; he only asked her, "Was there no resentment in your refusal of thanks to your aunt just now?"

"No, papa" ? said Daisy; with too sweet and artless utterance for him to doubt her.

"But, then, Daisy, we come back to the cause of your mother's displeasure. Good breeding requires that people should not be rude, even by silence."

"Papa, I did not know how to be polite with truth."

"You could have said you were very much obliged to your aunt."

"But, I was _not_, papa."

"Not obliged to her?"

"No, sir."

"But, Daisy, that is a civil form of expression which it is usual to avail oneself of upon such occasions. It does not necessarily mean much."

"But, papa, would she not have thought I meant it, if I had said so?"

"Very likely. That is the polite advantage gained."

"But papa, _I_ should have known that I did not mean it; and it would not have been true."

"This is getting to be too deep a question for you to discuss to-night ? it is time for you to go to bed. But I cannot have you rude."

Daisy kissed her father, who had been extremely gentle and tender with her, and went off to her room. Mr. Randolph's brow looked moody.

"Have you brought Daisy's ideas into order?" asked his wife, who had been engaged in conversation with Dr. Sandford.

"She has rather brought confusion into mine," said the gentleman.

"What is the matter?"

"Truth and Daisy, _versus_ civility and the world. And it is not so easy to make a child comprehend some of the fine distinctions we are accustomed to draw. White and black are _very_ white and black, to such eyes, and no allowance is made for a painter's lights and shades."

"She must make allowance for what your eyes see," said Mrs.

Randolph.

Mr. Randolph made no answer.

"Daisy is entirely changed," her mother went on, ? "and is become utterly obstinate and unmanageable. Perfectly self- important too ? she thinks there is no wisdom now but her own.

I may thank you for it, Dr. Sandford."

"You do me too much honour," said the doctor.

"It is an honour you share with Mr. Dinwiddie."

"I did not know I shared anything with Mr. Dinwiddie."

"He has infected the child with a set of perfectly fanatical notions; and you persisted in keeping her under that creature's care, where they had time to grow strong."

"I will do all I can to repair mischief done," said the doctor. "Mrs. Benoit is a good nurse for the body, and you will bear me witness it was for repairs of _that_ I was called in. What is the other damage referred to?"

"Fanaticism."

"Rather young for that disease to take deep root," said the doctor.

"Anything takes deep root in Daisy; whatever she takes up she holds to."

"I advise you to let her be fanatical then a little while longer," said the doctor, "till she has time to lay up some strength."

And the doctor took his departure.

"I am sure that is wise counsel, Felicia," Mr. Randolph said.

But the lady made him no answer.

Ransom went off to school the next day, as his father had promised. Mrs. Randolph looked very gloomy; Mrs. Gary looked lot otherwise; and Daisy thought the mental and social horizon foreboded stormy weather. But very happily, as it seemed to her, before dinner there was an arrival of some expected visitors, coming to stay for a time in the house. They had been desired as well as expected; there was a famous lady and a learned gentleman among them; and every eye and ear were taken up with attending to their words or waiting upon their movements. Daisy and her concerns were, she thought, forgotten.

She enjoyed the feeling of this for a little while; and then ordered her pony chaise. And presently you might have seen a little figure in a white frock come out upon the front steps, with a large flat on her head, and driving gloves on her hands, and in one of them a little basket. Down the steps she came and took her place in the chaise and gathered up the reins. The black pony was ready, with another boy in place of Sam; n.o.body interfered with her; and off they went, the wheels of the little chaise rolling smoothly over the gravel, Loupe in a gentle waddling trot, and Daisy in a contented state of mind. It was very pleasant! Clear sunny air, yet not too hot, and the afternoon shadows beginning to make all things look lovely. Daisy took the way to the church, pa.s.sed out upon the high road, and turned the pony's head in the direction which she had taken with Dr. Sandford the day before. She did not go quite so fast, however; so that it was a little time before she came in sight of the poor old house which she recognised as Molly Skelton's. Daisy drew the reins then, and let Loupe walk slowly up a slight ascent in the road which led to it.

But when the chaise was fairly opposite the house door, Daisy drew the reins still more and brought Loupe to a standstill.

She peered forth then anxiously to see if the poor old inmate of the house were to be seen anywhere.