"Daisy
may tell you what she pleases."
"Felicia," said Mr. Randolph, looking much vexed, "that child
has borne too much already. She is ill."
"It is her own fault. I told you, Mr. Randolph, I would as
lief not have a child as not have her mind me. She shall do
what I bid her, if she dies for it."
"It won't come to that," said Mrs. Gary. Mr. Randolph turned
on his heel.
Meantime, another person who had seen with sorrow Daisy's pale
face, and had half a guess as to the cause of it, came up to
her side and sat down.
"Daisy, what is to be done to-day?"
"I don't know, Captain Drummond."
"You don't feel like storming the heights, this morning?"
Again, to him also, the glance of Daisy's eye was so very
sweet, and so very wistful, that the captain was determined in
a purpose he had half had in his mind.
"What do you say to a long expedition, Daisy?"
"I don't feel like driving, Captain Drummond."
"No, but suppose I drive, — and we will leave Loupe at home
for to-day. I want to go as far as Schroeder's Hill, to look
after trilobites; and I do not want anybody with me but you.
Shall we go?"
"What are those things, Captain Drummond?"
"Trilobites?"
"Yes.
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