"At dinner? what was that?"

The child lifted her eyes now to her father's face, a little wistfully.

"Papa--don't you know?--I was only praying a minute."

Mr. Randolph stretched out his arm, drew Daisy up to him, placed her on
his knee, and looked down into her face.

"Did you have no supper down stairs?"

"No, sir."

"Do you like bread and milk better than other things?"

"No, papa."

"I met June with a great tray of supper things, and she said you would
not eat them. Why was that?"

"Papa," said Daisy, "I thought mamma did not mean me to have those
things to-night."

"She did not forbid you?"

"No, papa."

Mr. Randolph's arm was round Daisy; now he wrapped both arms about her,
bringing her up close to his breast, and putting down his lips to her