“Do you ride comfortably, Daisy?” her father asked, bending over to her.

“Yes, papa.  It is so nice!”

Mr. Randolph gave up care about Daisy, and the two gentlemen fell into a conversation which did not regard her, and lasted till the carriage stopped at the door of Melbourne House.  And there was her mother, and there were Preston and his mother and sister, and Gary McFarlane, who had been away and come back again, all waiting to welcome her; besides some other guests who were now at Melbourne.

Mr. Randolph, got out of the carriage first.  Dr. Sandford followed him; but then without giving place to anybody else, he himself took Daisy carefully off the seat where she lay, lifted her out in his arms, and carried her into the house.  All the others trooped around and after him, through the hall and into the drawing room, where the doctor laid his little charge on the sofa and put the pillows behind her so that she could sit up comfortably.  Then he stood back and let the others come to her.  Mrs. Randolph gave her some very contented kisses; so did Mr. Randolph.  Very glad and tender his were, at having his little daughter back there again.

“We are very much pleased to see you here, Daisy,” her aunt said.

“Poor Daisy,” said Eloise.

“Glad to come back to life and the world again, Daisy?” said Preston, standing at the back of her sofa and drumming on it.

“I understand, Daisy,” said McFarlane, “that you have been an enchanted beauty, or a sleeping princess, during these weeks of my absence—­under the guardianship of an old black witch, who drew incantations and water together from her well every morning.”

“I can answer for the incantations,” said Preston.  “I have heard ’em.”

Daisy’s face flushed all over.  “Preston, you do very wrong,” she said, turning her head round to him.  But Preston only burst into a fit of laughter, which he turned away to hide.  Others of the company now came up to take Daisy’s hand and kiss her and say how glad they were to see her; these people were very much strangers to Daisy and their greeting was no particular pleasure; but it had to be attended to.  Then tea came in, and Daisy was well petted.  It was very pleasant to have it so; after the silence and quiet of Juanita’s little cottage, the lights and dresses and people and silver urn and tea service and flowers made quite a picture.  Flowers had been in the cottage too, but not such wealth of them.  Just opposite to Daisy in the middle of the floor stood a great stone basket, or wide vase, on a pedestal; and this vase was a mass of beautiful flowers.  Trailing wreaths of roses and fuchsias and geraniums even floated down from the edges of the vase and sought the floor; the pedestal was half draped with them.  It was a very lovely sight to Daisy’s eyes.  And then her mother ordered a little stand brought to the sofa’s side; and her father placed it; and Gary brought her cup of tea, and Dr. Sandford spread her slice of toast.  Daisy felt as if she loved everybody, and was very happy.  The summer air floated in at the long windows, just as it used to do.  It was home.  Daisy began to realize the fact.