“Yes.”

“Well, that is what she puts me in mind of.  That handkerchief kills Marie Antoinette, dead.  And she won’t take advice—­or she can’t.  It is a pity you hadn’t it to do; you would hold it right queenly.  You do Esther capitally.  I don’t believe a Northern girl can manage that sort of thing.”

Daisy sipped her milk and eat crumbs of cake for a minute without making any answer.

“Preston, I am going to let Nora be Queen Esther.”

“What!” said Preston.

“I am going to let Nora be Queen Esther.”

“Nora!  Not if I know it,” said Preston.

“Yes, but I am.  I would like it better.  And Nora would like to be Queen Esther, I know.”

“I dare say she would!  Like it!  Of course.  No, Daisy; Queen Esther is yours and nobody’s else.  What has put that into your head?”

“Preston, I think Nora would like it; and you know, they said she was most like a Jewess of all of us; I think it would be proper to give it to her.”

“I shall not do it.  We will be improper for once.”

“But I am going to do it, Preston.”

“Daisy, you have not liberty.  I am the manager.  What has come over you?  You played Esther beautifully only this morning.  What is the matter?”

“I have been thinking about it,” said Daisy; “and I have concluded I would rather give it to Nora.”

Preston was abundantly vexed, for he knew by the signs that Daisy had made up her mind; and he was beginning to know that his little cousin was exceedingly hard to move when once she was fully set on a thing.  He debated within himself an appeal to authority; but on the whole dismissed that thought.  It was best not to disgust Daisy with the whole affair; and he hoped coaxing might yet do the work.  But Daisy was too quick for him.

“Nora,” she said at the next meeting, “if you like, I will change with you in the fainting picture.  You shall be the queen, and I will be one of the women.”

“Shall I be the queen?” said Nora.

“Yes, if you like.”

“But why don’t you want to do it?”

“I would rather you would, if you like it.”

“Well, I’ll do it,” said Nora; “but Daisy, shall I have all the dress you were going to wear?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Because, if I don’t, I won’t.  I must have just exactly what you were going to wear.”

“Why you will of course, I suppose,” said Daisy, a good deal astonished.

“Every bit,” said Nora.  “Shall I have that same white satin gown?”

“Yes, I suppose so.  Of course you will.  It is only you and I that change; not the dress.”

“And shall I have the ornaments too?”

“Just the same, I suppose; unless Mrs. Sandford thinks that something else will look better.”

“I won’t have anything else.  I want that same splendid necklace for my girdle—­shall I?”

“I suppose so, Nora.”