Daisy enjoyed her morning’s drive.  The light was clear and the air was fresh; Preston gallopping before and Sana jogging on behind; everything was fine!  Then it was quite true that she liked to see everything; those grey eyes of hers were extremely busy.  All the work going on in the fields had interest for her, and all the passers-by on the road.  A strange interest, often, for Daisy was very apt to be wondering whether any of them knew and loved the name she loved best; wondering who among all those rough-looking, unknown people, might be her fellow-servants.  And with that a thought which, if Mr. Randolph had known it, would have checked his self-congratulations.  He had not guessed what made the clasp of Daisy’s arms round his neck so close that morning.

Till they passed through Crum Elbow everything had been, as Preston said, seen a hundred times before.  A little way beyond that everything became new.  Mrs. Randolph’s carriage never came that road.  The country grew more rough and broken, and the hills in their woody dress shewed more and more near.

“Do you see that break in the woods?” said Preston, pointing with his whip; “that is where the brook comes out,—­that is where we are going.”

“What time is it, Preston?”

“Time?—­it is half past nine.  What about it?”

“I’m hungry—­that’s all.  I wanted to know what time it was.”

“Hungry!  O what a fisher you will make, Daisy!  Can’t stand fasting for two hours and a half.”

“No, but Preston, I didn’t eat much breakfast.  And I’ve had all this ride since.  I am going to stand fasting; but I am going to be hungry too.”

“No you aren’t,” said Preston.  “Just let Loupe take you up to that little gate, will you?  I’ll see if we can leave the horses here.  Sam!—­take this fellow!”

Preston jumped down from the saddle and went into the house, to the front yard of which the little gate opened.  Daisy looked after him.  It was a yard full of grass and weeds, among which a few poppies and hollyhocks and balsams grew straggling up where they could.  Nothing kept them out of the path but the foot-tread of the people that went over it; hoe and rake were never known there Since the walk was first made.  The house was a little, low, red-front house, with one small window on each side the door.

“All right!” said Preston, coming back.  “Sam, take the horses round to the barn; and bring the baskets out of the chaise-box and wait at this gate for us.”

“Why is he to wait? where are we going?”

“Going in to get some breakfast.”

“Here, Preston?—­O I can’t.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t eat anything in there.  I can wait.”