She had been with her brother sometimes
to the houses of poor children, and she gave Daisy a high-
coloured picture of the ways of living in such houses and the
absence of many things by Daisy and herself thought the
necessaries of life. Daisy heard her with a lengthening face,
and almost thought there was some excuse for the state of
feeling her father had explained in the morning. The question,
however, was too long a one for Daisy; but she arrived at one
conclusion, which was announced the next morning at the
breakfast-table. Mrs. Randolph had called upon her to say what
was determined upon for the birthday.
"Papa," said Daisy, "will there be a great plenty of
strawberries next week?"
"Yes, I believe so. Logan says the vines are very full. What
then?"
"Papa, you gave me my choice of what I would have for
Wednesday."
"Yes. Is it my strawberry patch?"
"Not for myself, papa. I want you to have a great table set
out of doors somewhere, and give a feast to all your work
people."
"Daisy!" exclaimed Mrs. Randolph. "I never heard anything so
ridiculous in all my life!"
Daisy waited with downcast eyes for her father to speak. He
was not in a hurry.
"Would that give you pleasure, Daisy?"
"Yes, papa.
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