Her father looked
on, pleased, to see her departure; and when she had gathered
up her reins, leaned over her and gave her with his kiss a
little gold piece to go with the pail and basket. It crowned
Daisy's satisfaction; with a quiet glad look and word of
thanks to her father, she drove off.
The pony waddled along nicely, but as his legs were none of
the longest, their rate of travelling was not precisely of the
quickest. Daisy was not impatient. The afternoon was splendid,
the dust had been laid by late rains, and Daisy looked at her
pail and basket with great contentment. Before she had gone a
quarter of a mile from home, she met her little friend of the
wintergreens. Nora sprang across the road to the chaise.
"Oh, Daisy, where are you going?"
"I am going to carry some things for mamma, to a house."
"All alone?"
"No, Sam is there to take care of me."
Nora looked back at the black pony, and then at Daisy. "Isn't
it nice!" she said, with a sort of half-regretful admiration.
"It's as nice as a fairy tale," said Daisy. "I'm just as good
as a princess, you know, Nora. Don't you want to go, too? Do
come."
"No, I mustn't — there are people coming to tea — Mrs.
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