knew well, but had never felt till then.  Forgive Ransom out and out?—­say nothing about it?—­not tell her father, nor make her grievance at all known to Ransom’s discomfiture?—­Daisy did not want to yield.  He deserved to be reproved and ashamed and made to do better.  It was the first time that a real conflict had come up in her mind between wrong and right; and now that she clearly saw what was right, to her surprise she did not want to do it!  Daisy saw both facts.  There was a power in her heart that said, No, I will not forgive, to the command from a greater power that bade her do it.  Poor Daisy! it was her first view of her enemy; the first trial that gave her any notion of the fighting that might be necessary to overcome him.  Daisy found she could not overcome him.  She was fain to go, where she had just begun to learn she might go, “to the Strong for strength.”  She ran away from the porch to her room, and kneeled down and prayed that the King would give her help to keep his commandments.  She was ashamed of herself now; but so obstinate was her feeling of displeasure against her brother, that even after she thought she had forgiven him Daisy would not go downstairs again nor meet him nor her father, for fear she should speak words that she ought not, or fail of a perfectly gentle and kind manner.

But what to do about her baskets?  A bright and most business-like thought suddenly came into her head.  The breakfast hour was always late; by being a little earlier than usual she could have plenty of time to go to Crum Elbow and return before the family were assembled.  Splendid!  Daisy went down the back stairs and gave her orders in such a way that they should not reach Ransom’s ear.  If not put on the alert he was sure to be down to breakfast last of anybody.  So Daisy went to bed and to sleep with her mind at rest.

It was so pleasant when she came out at half past six the next morning, that Daisy almost thought it was the prettiest time of all.  The morning air smelt so fresh, with the scent of the trees and flowers coming through the dew; and the light was so cool and clear, not like the hot glow of later hours, that Daisy felt like dancing for very gladness.  Then it was such a stroke of business to go to Crum Elbow before breakfast!

The pony and the chaise came up presently, and Sam and the black pony, all right, and every one of them looking more brisk and fresh than usual.  And off they went; under the boughs of the dew-bright trees, where the birds seemed to be as glad as Daisy, to judge by the songs they were singing; and by and by out from the beautiful grounds of Melbourne, into the road.  It was pleasanter there, Daisy thought, than she had ever seen it.  The fields looked more gay in that clear early light, and the dust was kept down by the freshness in the air.  It was delightful; and Loupe never went better.  Daisy was a very good little driver, and now the pony seemed to understand the feeling in her fingers and waddled along at a goodly rate.