"I understand, Daisy," said McFarlane, "that you have been an enchanted
beauty, or a sleeping princess, during these weeks of my absence--under
the guardianship of an old black witch, who drew incantations and water
together from her well every morning."

"I can answer for the incantations," said Preston. "I have heard 'em."

Daisy's face flushed all over. "Preston, you do very wrong," she said,
turning her head round to him. But Preston only burst into a fit of
laughter, which he turned away to hide. Others of the company now came
up to take Daisy's hand and kiss her and say how glad they were to see
her; these people were very much strangers to Daisy and their greeting
was no particular pleasure; but it had to be attended to. Then tea came
in, and Daisy was well petted. It was very pleasant to have it so; after
the silence and quiet of Juanita's little cottage, the lights and
dresses and people and silver urn and tea service and flowers made quite
a picture. Flowers had been in the cottage too, but not such wealth of
them. Just opposite to Daisy in the middle of the floor stood a great
stone basket, or wide vase, on a pedestal; and this vase was a mass of
beautiful flowers. Trailing wreaths of roses and fuchsias and geraniums
even floated down from the edges of the vase and sought the floor; the
pedestal was half draped with them. It was a very lovely sight to
Daisy's eyes. And then her mother ordered a little stand brought to the
sofa's side; and her father placed it; and Gary brought her cup of tea,
and Dr. Sandford spread her slice of toast. Daisy felt as if she loved
everybody, and was very happy. The summer air floated in at the long
windows, just as it used to do. It was _home_. Daisy began to realize
the fact.