"I don't know very well how to say what I want, papa; it is difficult."
"Try."
"Papa, you will not be displeased?"
"That depends upon what you have to say. Daisy."
"Papa, I do not mean to displease you," said the child, her eyes filling with tears. "But—suppose——"
"Well,—suppose anything."
"Suppose those rules should be different from your rules?"
"I am to be the judge, Daisy. If you set up disobedience to me, on any pretext, you know the consequences."
Daisy's lip trembled; she put up her hands to her face and burst into tears. She could not bear that reminder. Her father took one of her hands down and kissed the little wet cheek.
"Where are you going to find these rules, Daisy," he said kindly, "which you are going to set up against mine?"