Daisy looked up. "I think--perhaps--from _you_, Mr. McFarlane."

"Do you think I am anything like a puzzle?"

"I think--perhaps--you mean to be,"--Daisy said innocently. But a shout
from the whole tableful answered to this chance hit. Daisy didn't know
what they could mean.

"I have done!" said Gary. "I have got more than my match. But I know who
will plague people worse than a puzzle, if she gets well educated.
There's a pair of gloves, you little fencer."

It was a nice little thick pair of riding or driving gloves; beautifully
made and ornamented. These came from Eloïse, Daisy's other cousin. Mrs.
Gary had brought her two beautiful toilet bottles of Bohemian glass.
Daisy's end of the table was growing full.

"What is this?" said Mrs. Gary, taking from the épergne a sealed note
directed to Daisy.

"That is Ransom's present. Give her mine first," said Mr. Randolph.

"Which is yours? I don't see anything more."

"That little Proserpine in the middle."

"_This_? Are you going to give this to Daisy? But why is she called
Proserpine? I don't see."

"Nor I," said Mr. Randolph, "only that everything must have a name. And