CHAPTER XXXI.
THE PICTURES.
Daisy came down to breakfast the next morning, looking so very
bright and innocent and fresh, that perhaps Mr. Randolph
thought his wife and sister were taking unnecessary trouble
upon themselves. At least Mrs. Randolph so interpreted his
manner, as she saw him put his arm round Daisy and bend down
his head to hers. The gay visitors were still at Melbourne,
but they had not come down yet to breakfast that morning.
"Did you go to see your old woman yesterday?" Mr. Randolph
said.
"Yes, papa."
"Did you enjoy your visit?"
"Very much, papa."
Mrs. Randolph's head made a motion of impatience, which
however those two did not see.
"How was that, Daisy? I do not comprehend in this instance the
sources of pleasure."
"Papa" — said Daisy, hesitating — "I think I gave pleasure."
She could not explain to him much more, but Mr. Randolph at
least understood that. He gave Daisy another kiss, which was
not disapproving, the child felt. So her breakfast was
extremely happy.
She had a new plan in her head now about Molly. She wanted to
get established on the footing of a friend in that poor little
house; and she thought she had better perhaps not confine her
line of advance to the garden.
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