"Mrs. Sandford, and Dr. Sandford," said Preston, pointedly. "You are not with the doctor, I suppose."
"Why yes, I am," I answered. "He is my guardian—don't you know, Preston? He brought me. How tall you have grown!"
"A parcel of Yankees," said Preston. "Poor little Daisy."
"What do you mean by 'Yankees'?" I said. "You do not mean just people at the North, for you speak as if it was something bad."
"It is. So I do," said Preston. "They are a mean set—fit for nothing but to eat codfish and scrape. I wish you had nothing to do with Yankees."
I thought how all the South lived upon stolen earnings. It was a disagreeable turn to my meditations for a moment.
"Where have you hid yourself since you have come here?" Preston went on. "I have been to the hotel time and again to find you."
"Have you!" I said. "Oh, I suppose I was out walking."
"With whom were you walking."