What do you
expect to do, little Daisy?"
"I know what I would like if I were in her place," said Daisy.
"_You_, — but she is not you. She has not your tastes. Do you
mean to carry her a silver cup and fork, Daisy? You would
certainly like that, if you were in her place. Dear little
Daisy, don't you be a mad philosopher."
But Daisy had not been thinking of silver cups and forks, and
she was not misled by this argument.
"Daisy, do you see you have been under a mistake?"
"No, Preston," — she said, looking up at him.
"Daisy, do you think it is _right_ for you to go into houses and
among people where my uncle and aunt do not wish you to go?
You know they do not wish it, though they have given consent,
perhaps because you were so set upon it."
Daisy glanced behind her at the windows of the library; for
they were at the back entrance of the house; and then seizing
Preston's hand, and saying, "Come with me," she drew him down
the steps and over the grass till she reached one of the
garden seats under the trees, out of hearing of any one. There
they sat down; Preston curious, Daisy serious and even
doubtful.
"Preston" — she began with all her seriousness upon her, — "I
wish I had the book here, but I will tell you.
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