“Well, but it was,” said Daisy.  “The tray was smooth filled with something, something a little soft, on which you could mark; and Capt.  Drummond drew the map of England on it; and we were just getting into the battle—­what battle was it?—­when William came over from France and King Harold met him?”

“Hastings?”

“We were just come to the battle of Hastings, before Capt.  Drummond went away; and I should like so much to go on with it!”

“But was the battle of Hastings on the tray?”

“No, Preston, but the place was; and Capt.  Drummond told me about the battles.”

“Who is here to tell you about them now, Daisy?”

“Couldn’t you?—­sometimes, now and then?”

“I might; but you see, Daisy, you are coming to Melbourne now, and there will be Silver Lake and lots of other things to do.  You won’t want the tray here.”

Daisy looked a little wistfully at her cousin.  She said nothing.  And Preston turned sharply, for he heard a soft rustle coming up the path, and was just in time to spring to the door and open it for his aunt.

“Plow insufferably hot!” was Mrs. Randolph’s remark.  “How do you do, Daisy?”

“I think she is bewitched to stay in banishment, aunt Felicia; she will have it she is not coming home.”

Mrs. Randolph’s answer was given to the doctor, who entered at the instant behind Preston.

“How soon can Daisy be moved, doctor?”

The doctor took a leisurely view of his little patient before he replied.

“Not at present.”

“How soon?”

“If I think her fit for it, in a fortnight; possibly earlier.”

“But that is, not till September!”

“I am afraid you are correct,” said the doctor coolly.  Mrs. Randolph stood pondering the question, how far it was needful to own his authority.

“It is dreadfully hot here, in this little place!  She would be much better if she were out of it.”

“How have you found it at Melbourne to-day?”

“Insufferable!”

“How has it been with you, Daisy?”

“It has been a nice day, Dr. Sandford.”

The contrast was so extreme between the mental atmosphere of one speaker and of the other, that Dr. Sandford smiled.  It was ninety degrees of Fahrenheit—­and the fall of the dew.

“I have heard nobody say as much for the day before,” he remarked.

“But she would be much better at Melbourne.”

“As soon as I think that, she shall go.”

The doctor was absolute in his sphere, and Mr. Randolph moreover, she knew, would back him; so Mrs. Randolph held her peace, though displeased.  Nay, she entered into a little conversation with the doctor on other subjects, as lively as the day would admit, before she departed.  Preston, stayed behind, partly to improve his knowledge of Dr. Sandford.

“All has gone well to-day, Daisy?” he asked her pleasantly.