Mr. Randolph smiled.  Ransom seemed to consider himself insulted.  “I suppose that was the reason,” he said, “that she called me worse than a dog, because I took a meringue from the dinner-spread.”

“Did you do that, Daisy?” asked her mother.

“No, mamma,” said Daisy low.  Her nice had flushed with astonishment and sorrow.

“You did,” said Ransom.  “You said just that.”

“O no, Ransom you forget.”

“What did you say, Daisy?” asked her mother.

“Mamma, I did not say that.  I said something—­I did not mean it for anything like that.”

“Tell me exactly what you did say—­and no more delay.”

“Wait till after breakfast,” said Mr. Randolph.  “I wish to be present at the investigation of this subject, Felicia—­but I would rather take it by itself than with my coffee.”

So there was a lull in the storm which seemed to be gathering.  It gave Daisy time to think.  She was in a great puzzle.  How she could get through the matter without exposing all Ransom’s behaviour, all at least which went before the blow given to herself, Daisy did not see; she was afraid that truth would force her to bring it all out.  And she was very unwilling to do that, because in the first place she had established a full amnesty in her own heart for all that Ransom had done, and wished rather for an opportunity to please than to criminate him; and in the second place, in her inward consciousness she knew that Mrs. Randolph was likely to be displeased with her, in any event.  She would certainly, if Daisy were an occasion of bringing Ransom into disgrace; though the child doubted privately whether her word would have weight enough with her mother for that.  Ransom also had time to think, and his brow grew gloomy.  An investigation is never what a guilty party desires; and judging her by himself, Ransom had reason to dread the chance of retaliation which such a proceeding would give his little sister.  So Daisy and Ransom wore thoughtful faces during the rest of breakfast-time; and the result of Ransom’s reflections was that the investigation would go on most pleasantly without him.  He made up his mind to slip away, if he had a chance, and be missing.  He had the chance; for Mr. and Mrs. Randolph were engaged with a call of some neighbours immediately after breakfast; all thought of the children’s affairs seemed to be departed.  Ransom waited a safe time, and then departed too, with Preston, on an expedition which would last all the morning.  Daisy alone bided the hour, a good deal disturbed in the view of what it might bring.

She was summoned at last to the library.  Her father and mother were there alone; but just after Daisy came in she was followed by Dr. Sandford.  The doctor came with a message.  Mrs. Sandford, his sister, he said, sent by him to beg that Daisy might come to spend the day with Nora Dinwiddie, who much desired her presence.  In the event of a favourable answer, the doctor said he would himself drive Daisy over, and would call for that purpose in another hour or two.  He delivered his message, and Mrs. Randolph replied at once that Daisy could not go; she could not permit it.