Eh, Daisy?"
"How did you know anything about it, Mr. McFarlane?"
"Come, Daisy, — explain. I am all in a fog — or else you are.
This spelling-book seems to me a very wicked thing on Sunday."
"I will take it, if you please, Mr. McFarlane."
"Not if I know it! I want my ignorance instructed, Daisy. I am
persuaded you are the best person to enlighten me — but if
not, I shall try this spelling-book on Mrs. Randolph. I regard
it as a great curiosity, and an important question in
metaphysics."
Poor Daisy! She did not know what to do; conscious that Gary
was laughing at her all the while, and most unwilling that the
story of the spelling-book should get to Mrs. Randolph's ears.
She stood hesitating and troubled, when her eye caught sight
of Preston near. Springing to him she cried, "Oh, Preston, get
my little book from Mr. McFarlane — he won't give it to me."
There began then a race of the most uproarious sort between
the two young men — springing, turning, darting round among
the trees and bushes, shouting to and laughing at each other.
Daisy another time would have been amused; now she was almost
frightened, lest all this boisterous work should draw
attention. At last, however, Preston got the spelling-book, or
Gary let himself be overtaken and gave it up.
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