"Yes, papa--quite well."

"Then why did you come away?"

Daisy's spoon lay still in her fingers and her eyes reddened.

"Mamma sent me."

If the child was to have any supper at all, Mr. Randolph saw, he must
forbear his questioning. He rose up from leaning over her chair.

"Go on, Daisy--" he said; and he left her, but did not leave the room.
He walked up and down the floor at a little distance, while Daisy
finished her bread and milk She was too much in want of it not to do
that. When it was done she got out of her chair and stood on the floor
looking at her father, as gentle as a young sparrow. He came and wheeled
her chair round and sat down upon it.

"What is the matter, Daisy?"

"Mamma was displeased with me." The child dropped her eyes.

"What about?"

"Papa"--said Daisy slowly, trying for words and perhaps also for
self-command--"mamma was displeased with me because--I--"

"What?"

"Papa--because I did what she did not like at dinner."