"
Mrs. Randolph came.
"Mamma," said Daisy, "do you know anything about my Egyptian
spoon?"
"Do you want it, Daisy?"
"Oh, yes, mamma! I do. June cannot find it. Do you know where
it is?"
"Yes — it is not a thing for a child like you, Daisy, and I
let your aunt Gary have it. She wanted it for her collection.
I will get you anything else you like in place of it."
"But, mamma, I told aunt Gary she could not have it. She asked
me, and I told her she could not have it."
"I have told her she might, Daisy. Something else will give
you more pleasure. You are not an ungenerous child."
"But, mamma! it was _mine_. It belonged to me."
"Hush, Daisy; that is not a proper way to speak to me. I allow
you to do what you like with your things in general; this was
much fitter for your aunt Gary than for you. It was something
beyond your appreciation. Do not oblige me to remind you that
your things are mine."
Mrs. Randolph spoke as if half displeased already, and left
the room. Daisy lay with a great flush upon her face, and in a
state of perturbation.
Her spoon was gone; that was beyond question, and Daisy's
little spirit was in tumultuous disturbance — very uncommon
indeed with her.
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