And in the midst of it,
every look at the black woman's noble, sweet face, warmed
Daisy's heart with something better than amusement. Daisy grew
to love her very much.
This morning all these affairs had been gone through as usual;
and leaving Daisy in a happy, refreshed state, Mrs. Benoit
went off to prepare her breakfast. Like everything else, that
was beautifully done. By and by, in she came with a tray and
white napkin, white as napkin could be, and fine damask too.
For Juanita had treasures of various sorts, besides old moreen
curtains. On this tray, for instance, there was not only a
fine napkin of damask; there was a delicate cup and saucer of
fine china, which Daisy thought very beautiful. It was as thin
and fine as any cup at Melbourne House, and had a dainty vine
of leaves and flowers running round it, in a light red brown
colour. The plate was not to match; it was a common little
white plate; but that did not matter. The tea was in the
little brown cup, and Daisy's lips closed upon it with entire
satisfaction. Juanita had some excellent tea too; and if she
had not, there was a sufficient supply sent from Melbourne; as
well as of everything else. So today there was not only the
brown toast in strips, which Daisy fancied; but there were
great red Antwerp raspberries for her; and that made, Daisy
thought, the very best breakfast that could be eaten.
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