mind it. Boys will do such things--she must learn that it is not her
place or business to find fault with her brother. I think she deserved
what she got. It will teach her a lesson."

"Boys shall not do such things in my house," said Mr. Randolph in his
usual quiet manner.

"As you please!" said the lady in a very dissatisfied way; "but I think
it is only what all boys do."

"Felicia, I wish to reverse your decision about this day's pleasure.
Seeing Daisy has had her lesson, do you not think she might be indulged
with the play after it?"

"As you please!" returned the lady very drily.

"Do you want to go, Daisy?"

"If you please, papa." Daisy spoke without shewing her face.

"Is Mr. Dinwiddie at Mrs. Sandford's?" inquired Mrs. Randolph.

"O no, mamma!" Daisy looked up. "He is not coming. He is gone a great
way off. I do not suppose he is ever coming here again; and Nora is
going away soon."

Mrs. Randolph moved off.

"Felicia--" said her husband. The lady paused. "I intend that Ransom
shall have a lesson, too. I shall take away the remaining week of his
vacation. To-morrow he goes back to school. I tell you, that you may
give the necessary orders."

"For this boy's freak, Mr. Randolph?"

"For what you please. He must learn that such behaviour is not permitted
here."

Mrs. Randolph did not share the folly with which she charged Daisy, for
she made no answer at all, and only with a slight toss of her haughty
head resumed her walk out of the room. Daisy would fain have spoken, but
she did not dare; and for some minutes after they were left alone her
father and she were profoundly silent. Mr. Randolph revolving the
behaviour of Daisy as he now understood it; her willing silence and
enforced speech, and the gentleness manifested towards her brother, with
the meek obedience rendered to her mother and himself. Perhaps his
thoughts went deeper still. While Daisy reflected with sorrow on the
state of mind sure to be produced now both in Ransom and Mrs. Randolph
towards her. A matter which she could do nothing to help. She did not
dare say one word to change her father's purpose about Ransom; she knew
quite well it would be no use. She stood silent by his sofa, one little
hand resting fondly on his shoulder, but profoundly quiet. Then she
remembered that she had something else to talk about.

"Papa--" she said wheeling round a little to face him.

"Well, Daisy?"

"Do you feel like talking?"

"Hardly--it i