But Daisy was getting well now.  It was only a few days more, and Dr. Sandford permitted her to walk a little way herself on her own feet.  A little way at first, across the floor and back; no more that day; but from that time Daisy felt whole again.  Soon she could walk to please herself, up and down stairs and everywhere; though she was not allowed to go far enough to tire her foot while it was yet unused to exercise.

Now all her home ways fell again into their accustomed order.  Daisy could get up and be dressed; nobody knows what a luxury that is unless he has been hindered of it for a good while.  She could stand at her window and look out; and go down on her own feet to join the family at breakfast.  Her father procured her a seat next himself now, which Daisy did not use to have; and she enjoyed it.  She knew he enjoyed it too; and it made breakfast a very happy time to Daisy.  After breakfast she was at her own disposal, as of old.  Nobody wished her to do anything but please herself.

At this moment nothing pleased Daisy better than to go on with English history.  With Preston, if she could get him; if not, alone, with her book and her tray map.  Poring over it, Daisy would lie on the sofa, or sit on a little bench with the tray on the floor; planting her towns and castles, or going hack to those already planted with a fresh interest from new associations.  Certain red-headed and certain black-headed and certain green-headed pins came to be very well known and familiar in the course of time.  And in course of time, too, the soil of England came to be very much overspread with little squares of pink blotting-paper.  To Daisy it grew to be a commentary on the wickedness of mankind.  Preston remarked on the multitude there was of Egyptian spoons.

“What do you mean by that, Preston?” said his aunt.

“Causes of quarrel, ma’am.”

“Why do you call them Egyptian spoons?”

“Causes of trouble, I should say, ma’am.”

“And again I say, why do you call them Egyptian spoons?”

“I beg your pardon, aunt Felicia.  Egypt was always a cause of trouble to the faithful; and I was afraid little Daisy has had just a spoonful of it lately.”

“Daisy, what have you been saying to your cousin?”

“Nothing, mamma, about that; only what Preston asked me.”

“I am sure you did not say what I asked of you, Daisy.  She told me nothing at all, aunt Felicia, except by what she did not tell me.”

“She behaved very sweetly about it, indeed,” said Mrs. Gary.  “She made me feel quite easy about keeping it.  I shall have to find out what I can send, to Daisy that she will like.”

“What are you and Preston doing there?” Mrs. Randolph asked with a cloudy face.

“Studying, mamma; I am.  English history.”

“That is no way of studying; and that tray—­what have you got in it?”

“England, mamma.”

Preston laughed.  Mrs. Randolph did not join him.