"This morning Mother talked to me, and Father was nasty to me at the breakfast table and—" and again the pretty eyes filled with tears.
"Who is it about this time?"
"There's no this time; it's always the same. It's—it's—Dr. Eaton."
Drusilla laughed.
"I knowed it! I seen it a-comin' a long time. What you and Dr. Eaton been doin'?"
"We haven't been doing anything. Only I walked home with him from your house last night, and we walked a while and—and—Mother and Father talked to me, and—"
"Yes, your father's held some forth to me about Dr. Eaton, but I only laugh at him. I like that young man."
Daphne snuggled her hand into Drusilla's.
"That's the reason I can talk to you; you will understand—because—"
Drusilla laughed again.