"Well, mouse," said her mother, when Daisy came down to tea, —
where have you been? What a mouse you are!"
"Intelligent — for a lower order of quadrupeds," said Mr.
McFarlane.
"The day has been insufferable!" said Mrs. Randolph. "Have you
been asleep, Daisy?"
"No, mamma."
"You were lying down?"
"Yes, mamma."
Daisy had drawn up close to her mother —who had thrown an arm
round her. The family were gathered in the library; the
windows open, the fresh air coming faintly in; the light
fading but no lamps needed yet.
"I am glad the day is over!" said Mrs. Gary. "This morning I
did not know how I was going to live through it. There is a
little freshness now. Why is it always so much hotter on
Sundays than on any other day?"
"Because you think about it," said Mr. Randolph, who was
moving from window to window, setting the glass doors wider
open.
"There is nothing else to think about," said Mrs. Randolph
with a yawn. "Gary, do bring me a cup of tea."
"You ought to think about your evil deeds," said Mr.
McFarlane, obeying the command. "Then you would have enough."
"_You_ would, you mean."
"I know it. I speak from experience. I tried it once, for a
whole afternoon; and you've no idea how good tea-time was when
it came!"
"What _could_ set you about such a piece of work, Gary?" said
his hostess, laughing.
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