"Yes; you said you thought people did not eat dinner, but it was a
_pic-nic_."

"Well, I thought they didn't."

"What did you mean by a _pic-nic_?"

"Why I meant just that. You know what a pic-nic is."

"We always have dinner when we go on a pic-nic," said Daisy.

"Then I don't think it is a pic-nic."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. Daisy, are you going to ride in that queer chair?"

"I suppose so. My ankle isn't quite strong yet, you know. Wasn't it nice
of Dr. Sandford to prepare it for me?"

"I don't know, _I_ don't think he is nice," said Nora.

Which expression of opinion was so very startling to Daisy that it took
her some time to recover from it. She sought out the doctor with her eye
where he was sitting forward of the mast, somewhat hid from her by a
piece of the sail; she scanned his countenance, with its calm nobleness
of feature, and steadfast, reserved, beautiful blue eye. Doubtless, he
was not everything Daisy wished him; nevertheless to her he was very
"nice" indeed. Her eye came back satisfied.