“How handsome he is,” she said to herself, as she gazed admiringly upon the sleeping boy, “and how white and slim his hands are.  A great deal whiter than mine, but that, I suppose, is because he is a gentleman’s son, and I have to wash dishes, and sweep and dust the rooms;” and the girl glanced regretfully at her own hands, which, though fat and well-shaped, were brown, and showed signs of the dusting and dish-washing required of her by her mother, whose means were very limited, and whose dressmaking did not warrant luxury of any kind.

“I wish my hands were white, and that I could wear diamond rings like the ladies at the George,” she continued; “and sometime I will, if they are only shams.  Half the world does not know the difference.”

Just then a handsome carriage containing a gentleman and lady, child and nurse, and maid, turned in at the lodge gate, which Anthony opened very respectfully, with a pull at his forelock.

“That’s the McPhersons from London!  What an ugly, proud-looking thing Lady Jane is!” the girl thought, and in watching the carriage as it drove toward the house she relaxed her vigilance so far that a huge blue bottle-fly which had been skirting around the spot, for some time, alighted squarely upon Archie’s nose, and roused him from his slumber.

Yawning lazily, and stretching his long arms, he looked up, and seeing his companion, called out, in a tone half familiar, half patronizing, as he would address an inferior: 

“Halloo, Daze, what are you doing here?”

“Keeping the sun and the flies off from you; they bite awfully this morning,” she answered, quietly, and Archie continued: 

“Upon my word, Daze, you are a little trump, standing bareheaded in the sun to shield me!  How long have you been here?”

“Half an hour, perhaps; and I was getting tired,” was the girl’s reply; but Archie did not ask her to sit down beside him, for he wanted all the bench to lounge upon, and leaning upon his elbow he went on talking to her, and answering her questions jestingly, until she said: 

“How is your father?”

Then there came a shadow upon the face of the boy, who replied: 

“He is worse, and they have sent for Uncle John and Lady Jane.  We expect them to-day.”

“Yes, I know; they came while you were asleep.  Lady Jane looks very proud,” Daisy said, and Archie rejoined: 

“She looks as she is then.  I hate her!”

If Archie hated her, Daisy did too, and she answered promptly, “So do I!” though she had never seen the lady in question until that morning when she rode by, arching her long neck and looking curiously around her.

“She thinks the world made only for her and the baby Neil,” Archie said, “and Dorothy thinks so too.  She is in a great way about her coming because we have no servants, I don’t care!  Let Uncle John give us some money if they want style when they come to Stoneleigh.”