"Why not, papa?"
"I have never quite got over that unlucky fall. It has left my head a little shaky, Daisy; and my strength - Never mind! you are my strength now, my pet. We should have gone home before this, only for the troubles breaking out there."
I leaned my head upon his breast, and wished the troubles were not! What a division those troubles made, unknown to him, between his heart's happiness and mine - yes, between him and me. Mamma came in and looked at us both.
"It is a very pretty picture," she said. And she kissed me, while papa did not let me out of his arms. "Daisy, you are a beauty."
"She is a great deal better than a beauty," said my father. "But, now I look at you, Daisy - yes, you are a beauty, certainly."
They both laughed heartily at the colour which all this raised in my face.
"Most exquisite, her skin is," said my mother, touching my
cheek. "Did you ever see anything superior to it, Mr.
Randolph? Rose leaves are not any better than that. Pshaw,
Daisy! - you must get accustomed to hear people say it."
"Nobody shall say it to me, mamma, but you."
"No," said my father. "That is my view of it, too."
"Nonsense!" said mamma - "there are a thousand ways of doing the same thing, and you cannot stop them all. Your hair is as fine as possible, too, Daisy, although it has not had me to take care of it."