“He is nice, papa.”

“Nice—­” said Mr. Randolph.  “He is pretty well.  But now, Daisy, what do you think of going to bed and to sleep?”

“Yes, papa.”

“And to-morrow, if you have got into any difficulty, you may come to me and talk about it.”

Daisy returned a very earnest caress to her father’s good night kiss, and afterwards had no difficulty in doing as he had said.  And so ended the day on Silver Lake.

CHAPTER VII.

Daisy reflected the next morning as to what was her right course with respect to the action that had troubled her mother so much.  Ought she to do it?  In the abstract it was right to do it; but ought she in these circumstances?  And how much of a Christian’s ordinary duty might she be required to forego? and where must the stand be made?  Daisy did not know; she had rather the mind of a soldier, and was much inclined to obey her orders, as such, come what might.  That is, it seemed to her that so she would be in the sure and safe way; but Daisy had no appetite at all for the fighting that this course would ensure.  One thing she knew by experience; that if she drew upon herself a direct command to do such a thing no more, the order would stand; there would be no dealing with it afterwards except in the way of submission.  That command she had not in this case yet received, and she judged it prudent not to risk receiving it.  She went down to breakfast as usual, but she did not bow her little head to give any thanks or make any prayers.  She hoped the breakfast would pass off quietly.  So it did as to that matter.  But another subject came up.

“What became of you last night at supper, Daisy?” her aunt asked.  “Dr. Sandford was enquiring for you.  I think you received quite your share of attention, for so young a lady, for my part.”

“Daisy had more than anybody else, yesterday,” remarked Eloise.

“A sprained or a broken ankle is a very good thing occasionally,” said Mr. Randolph.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Gary—­“I think Daisy had quite the best time of anybody yesterday.  A palanquin with gentlemen for her porters, and friendly arms to go to sleep in—­most devoted care!”

“Yes, I was one of her porters,” said Ransom.  “I think Dr. Sandford takes rather too much on himself.”

“Did he take you?” said Mr. Randolph.

“Yes, sir,—­when there was no occasion.”

“Why Ransom,” said Daisy, “there was no one else to carry my chair but Preston and you.”

“Did Preston feel aggrieved?” asked his uncle.

“Certainly not, sir,” replied the boy.  “It was a pleasure.”

“It was not Ransom’s business,” said Mrs. Randolph.

“I suppose it was not the doctor’s business either,” said Mr. Randolph—­“though he made it so afterwards.”

“O, I dare say it was a pleasure to him, too,” said Mrs. Gary.  “Really, the doctor did not take care of anybody yesterday, that I saw, except Daisy.  I thought he admired Frederica Fish—­I had heard so—­but there was nothing of it.  Daisy was quite queen of the day.”