ut in the country and "let her run;"
therefore it was that she was hardly ever checked in any fancy that came
into her head. But therefore it was partly, too, that Mrs. Randolph
tried to put books and thinking as far from her as she could.

"Daisy," she said one morning at the breakfast-table, "would you like to
go with June and carry some nice things down to Mrs. Parsons?"

"How, mamma?"

"How what? Do speak distinctly."

"How shall I go, I mean?"

"You may have the carriage. I cannot go, this morning or this
afternoon."

"O papa, mayn't I take Loupe and drive there myself?"

If Daisy had put the question at the other end of the table, there would
have been an end of the business, as she knew. As it was, her father's
"yes" got out just before her mother's "no."

"Yes she may," said Mr. Randolph--"no harm. John, tell Sam that he is to
take the black pony and go with the pony-chaise whenever Miss Daisy
drives. Daisy, see that he goes with you."

"Well," said Mrs. Randolph, "you may do as you like, but I think it is a
very unsafe proceeding. What's Sam?--he's a boy."

"Safe enough," said Mr. Randolph. "I can trust all three of the party;
Daisy, Loupe, and Sam. They all know their business, and they will all
do it."

"Well!--I think it is very unsafe," repeated Mrs. Randolph.

"Mamma," said Daisy, when she had allowed a moment to pass--"what shall
I take to Mrs. Parsons."

"You must go and see Joanna about that. You may make up whatever you
think will please her or do her good. Joanna will tell you."

And Mrs. Randolph had the satisfaction of seeing that Daisy's eyes were
lively enough for the rest of breakfast-time, and her colour perceptibly
raised. No sooner was breakfast over than she flew to the consultation
in the housekeeper's room.

Joanna was the housekeeper, and Mrs. Randolph's right hand; a jewel of
skill and efficiency; and as fully satisfied with her post and power in
the world, at the head of Mr. Randolph's household, as any throned
emperor or diademed queen; furthermore, devoted to her employers as
though their concerns had been, what indeed she reckoned them, her own.

"Mrs. Randolph didn't say anything to me about it," said this piece of
capability,--"but I suppose it isn't hard to manage. Who is Mrs.
Parsons? that's the first thing."

"She's a very poor old woman, Joanna; and she is obliged to keep her bed
always; there is something the matter with her. She lives with a
daughter of h