"Daisy," said Mrs. Randolph, "I want in the first place an explanation of last night's behaviour."
"Mamma, I am very sorry to have offended you!" said Daisy, pressing both hands together upon her breast to keep herself quiet.
"Looks like it," said Mrs. Randolph; and yet she did see and feel the effect of the night's work upon the child. "Go on;—tell me why you disobeyed me last night."
"It was Sunday—" said Daisy softly.
"Sunday!—well, what of that? what of Sunday?"
"That song—wasn't a Sunday song."
"What do you mean by a Sunday song?"
"I mean"—Daisy was on dangerous ground, and she knew it,—"I mean, one of those songs that God likes to hear people sing on his day."
"Who is to be judge?" said Mrs. Randolph,—"you or I?"
"Mamma," said Daisy, "I will do everything else in the world you tell me!"