"I will represent the rolling stock of this road, and undertake to carry
parcels safely," said Mr. McFarlane. "Any message with the goods, Mrs.
Gary?"

"I believe they carry their own message with them," said the lady;--"or
else I don't see what is the use of these little white tickets. Where
shall I begin, Mr. Randolph?"

"I do not think the order of proceedings will be criticised, provided it
does not delay," said Daisy's father.

"Then transmit this, Gary."

"Literary freight"--said Gary McFarlane, handing over to Daisy a little
parcel of books. Five or six little volumes, in pretty binding--Daisy
looked eagerly to see what they might be. "Marmion"--"The Lady of the
Lake"--Scott's Poetical Works.

"O thank you, papa!" said Daisy, looking delighted.

"Not me," said Mr. Randolph. "I am not to be thanked."

"There's no name in them--" said Daisy.

"That's Preston's gift," said her aunt. Preston was Daisy's oldest
cousin; a fine boy of sixteen.

"I like it so much, Preston!" said Daisy, sending a grateful look down
the table to where he sat.