“A couple of days ago we went on a picnic—I have a way of getting into awful passions—and Polly—Polly vexed me.”
“Oh, she vexed you? You’re not the first that young miss has vexed, I can tell you.”
“She vexed me; I oughtn’t to have minded; I got into a passion; I felt awful; I ran away with baby.”
“Goodness me! what is the world coming to? You don’t mean to say you have dared to bring the infant here, Daisy?”
“No, no. I ran away with her on to the moors. I was so frightened, for I thought baby had died. Then Maggie came, and she saved her life, and she was brought home again.”
“That’s a good thing; but I can’t see why you are troubling me with this story.”
“Yesterday morning I gave baby back to Dr. Maybright. He’s not like other people; he looked at me, and his look pierced my heart. He said something, too, and then for the first time I began to be really, really sorry. I went up to my room; I stayed there alone all day; I was miserable.”
“Served you right if you were, Daisy.”
“In the evening I was so hungry, I went down for food. I met Firefly; she told me the worst.”
“Then the baby died? You really are an awful girl, Daisy Rymple.”