"Miss Daisy," said Mrs. Stilton, "it's too much trouble for you to fill
all them cups--sha'n't I come there, and take the responsibility? if you
would delegate me."

Gladly Daisy agreed, slipped off her high chair, and saw Mrs. Stilton's
full portly figure take the place. But Daisy's labours were not ended.
She saw one of the Irish labourers sitting with his eyes straight before
him and nothing on his plate for them to look at. Daisy went round. It
was her feast; she felt she must do the honours.

"Will you have a cup of coffee?" said a soft little voice at the man's
elbow. He started.

"Ach!--Sure Miss, I wouldn't be troublesome."

"It's no trouble. Will you have some tea or some coffee?"

"'Dade, sorrow a drop ever I tuk of ary one of 'em but the one time,
plase yer ladyship. It's too good for me, sure; that's why it don't
agree wid me, Miss."

Very much puzzled by the confidential little nod with which this
information was communicated, Daisy yet felt she could not give up the
matter.

"Then what will you have?--some ham? or some strawberries?"

"Sure I'll do very well, niver fear, plase yer ladyship; don't trouble
yerself. The angels wouldn't want something purtier to eat, than what we