"Set open that
sash-door a little more, Daisy. Now come here. What is it?"
"Shall I wait till another time, papa?"
"No."
He had passed an arm round her, and she stood as before with
one hand resting on his shoulder.
"Papa — it was about — what last night you said I might talk
to you about."
"I remember. Go on, Daisy."
"Papa," said the child, a little in doubt how to go on — "I
want to do what is right."
"There is generally little difficulty in doing that, Daisy."
Daisy thought otherwise!
"Papa, I think mamma does not like me to do what I think is
right," she said, very low and humbly.
"Your mother is the best judge, Daisy. What are you talking
about?"
"_That_, papa — that you said I might talk to you about."
"What is it? Let us understand one another clearly."
"About — it was only that I liked to pray and give thanks a
minute at meal times." Daisy spoke very softly and as if she
would fain not have spoken.
"That is a mere indifferent ceremony, Daisy, which some people
perform. It is not binding on you, certainly, if your mother
has any objection to your doing it."
"But, papa," — Daisy began eagerly, and then checked herself,
and went on slowly — "you would not like it if you were to
give me anything, and I should not thank you?"
"Cases are not parallel, Daisy.
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