Daisy was silent, musing, for a little time; then she broke out again.

"Isn't she very miserable, Dr. Sandford?"

"She is a very crabbed old thing, so the inference is fair that she is
miserable. In fact, I do not see how she can avoid it."

Daisy pondered perhaps this misery which she could so little imagine;
however she let the subject drop as to any more words about it. She was
only what the doctor called "quaintly sober," all the rest of the way.

"Why she looks child-like and bright enough now," said Mrs. Sandford, to
whom he made the remark. Daisy and Nora were exchanging mutual
gratulations. The doctor looked at them.

"At the rate in which she is growing old," said he, "she will have the
soul of Methusaleh in a body of twenty years."

"I don't believe it," said Mrs. Sandford.

Nora and Daisy had a great day of it. Nothing broke the full flow of
business and pleasure during all the long hours; the day was not hot to
them, nor the shadows long in coming. Behind the house there was a deep
grassy dell through which a brook ran. Over this brook in the dell a
great black walnut tree cast its constant flickering shadow; flickering
when the wind played in the leaves and branches, although to-day the air
was still and sultry, and the leaves and the shadows were still too, and
did not move. But there was life enough in the branches of the old
walnut, for a large family of grey squirrels had established themselves