offer any conversation; and the doctor, of Mr. Randolph's mind, perhaps,
that it was a warm day, threw himself back in his seat and watched her
lazily. Daisy on the contrary sat up and looked busily out. They drove
in the first place for a good distance through her own home grounds,
coming out to the public road by the church where Mr. Pyne preached, and
near which the wintergreens grew. It looked beautiful this morning, with
its ivy all washed and fresh from the rain. Indeed all nature was in a
sort of glittering condition. When they came out on the public way it
was still beautiful; no dust, and fields and grass and trees all
shining.

The road they travelled now was one scarce known to Daisy; the carriages
from Melbourne never went that way; another was always chosen at the
beginning of all their excursions whether of business or pleasure. No
gentlemen's seats were to be seen; an occasional farmhouse stood in the
midst of its crops and meadows; and more frequently a yet poorer sort of
house stood close by the roadside. The road in this place was sometimes
rough, and the doctor's good horse left his trot and picked his way
slowly along, giving Daisy by this means an opportunity to inspect
everything more closely. There was often little pleasure in the
inspection. About half a mile from the church, Daisy's attention was
drawn by one of these poor houses. It was very small, unpainted and
dreary-looking, having a narrow courtyard between it and the road. As
the gig was very slowly going past, Daisy uttered an exclamation, the
first word she had uttered in a long while.

"O Dr. Sandford!--what is that? Something is the matter!"

"No," said the doctor coolly, "nothing is the matter--more than usual."