to
do. The sharp, stinging stroke of the ruler the next moment upon her
open palm, made her understand very thoroughly. It drew from her one cry
of mixed pain and terror; but after that first forced exclamation Daisy
covered her face with her other hand and did not speak again. Tears,
that she could not help, came plentifully; for the punishment was
sufficiently severe, and it broke her heart that her father should
inflict it; but she stood perfectly still, only for the involuntary
wincing that was beyond her control, till her hand was released and the
ruler was thrown down. Heart and head bowed together then, and Daisy
crouched down on the floor where she stood, unable either to stand or to
move a step away.

"There! That account's settled!" said Mr. Randolph as he flung down his
ruler. And the next moment his hands came softly about Daisy and lifted
her from the floor and placed her on his knee; and his arms were wrapped
tenderly round her. Daisy almost wished he had let her alone; it seemed
to her that her sorrow was more than she could bear.

"Is your heart almost broken?" said Mr. Randolph softly, as he felt
rather than heard the heavy sobs so close to him. But to speak was an
impossibility, and so he knew, and did not repeat his question; only he
held Daisy fast, and it was in his arms that she wept out the first
overcharged fulness of her heart. It was a long time before she could
quiet those heavy sobs; and Mr. Randolph sat quite still holding her.

"Is your heart quite broken?" he whispered again, when he judged that
she could speak. Daisy did not speak, however. She turned, and rising
upon her knees, threw her arms round her father's neck and hid her soft
little head there. If tears came Mr. Randolph could not tell; he thought
his neck was wet with them. He let her alone for a little while.

"Daisy----"

"Papa----"

"Can you talk to me?"

Daisy sank back into her former position. Her father put his lips down
to hers for a long kiss.

"That account is settled," said he; "do you understand? Now Daisy, tell
me what was the matter last night."

"Papa, it was Sunday night."

"Yes. Well?"

"And that song--that mamma wanted me to sing"--Daisy spoke very
low,--"was out of an opera; and it was good for any other day, but not
for Sunday."

"Why not?"

Daisy hesitated, and at last said, "It had nothing to do with Sunday,
papa."

"But obedience is not out of place on Sunday, is it?"

"No, papa,--exce