Ransom came up.
"Daisy, do you want to go fishing?"
"No, I think not."
"You don't! What are you going to do?"
"I am not going to do anything."
"I don't believe it. What ails you? Mother said I was to ask
you — and there you sit like a wet feather. I am glad I am not
a girl, however!"
Ransom went off, and a very faint colour rose in Daisy's
cheek.
"Are you not well, Daisy?" said Mr. Randolph, who had also
drawn near.
"I am well, papa."
"You don't look so. What's the matter, that you don't go a-
fishing, when Ransom has the consideration to ask you?"
Daisy's tranquillity was very nearly overset. But she
maintained it, and only answered without the change of a
muscle, "I have not the inclination, papa." Indeed her face
was _too_ quiet; and Mr. Randolph, putting that with its
colourless hue, and the very sweet upward look her eyes had
first given him, was not satisfied. He went away to the
breakfast room.
"Felicia," said he, in a low tone, bending down by his wife, —
"did you have any words with Daisy last night?"
"Has she told you about it?" said Mrs. Randolph.
"Told me what? What is there to tell?"
"Nothing, on my part," answered the lady, nonchalantly.
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