Daisy came near slowly. Her father held out his hand to her, and folded
her in his arms again.
"You are such a noisy child!" he said,--"your mother does wisely to warn
you."
"She is an excitable child,"--said Mrs. Randolph;--"and I think you want
warning too."
"We will keep each other quiet," said Mr. Randolph.
The lady looked on, with what seemed a doubtful eye. Nobody watched it.
Her husband's eyes were often closed; Daisy's little head lay on his
breast, quiet enough, unless when she moved it to give soft noiseless
kisses to her father's cheek. They remained so a good while, with scarce
any word spoken; and Mrs. Randolph was busy at her tetting. The light
faded; the evening drew on.
"It is time for Daisy's tea." It was the first thing that broke a long
silence.
"She and I will have it together," said Mr. Randolph.
"Will that be best for you, Mr. Randolph?"
"I hope so."
"I doubt it."
"Most things in this world are doubtful," said Mr. Randolph; "but we
will try."
"Will you choose to have tea now, then?"
"Now?--no."
"This is Daisy's time."
"Very well. She must wait for my time."
Not a word did Daisy say; only little alternate throbs of joy and fear,
as her father or her mother spoke, passed through her heart. Mrs.
Randolph gave it up; and there was another hour of quiet, very sweet to
Daisy. Then lights were brought, and again Mrs. Randolph proposed, to
have the tea served; but again Mr. Randolph negatived her proposal; and
things remained as they were.
Pages:
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328