Mr. Randolph looked soberly at the little face before him, and went away thinking his own thoughts. But he had the cruelty to repeat to Dr. Sandford so much of this conversation as concerned that gentleman; in doing so he unwittingly laid the foundation of more attention to Daisy on the doctor's part, than he probably would ever otherwise have given her. To say truth—the idea propounded by Daisy was so very novel to the doctor that it both amused and piqued him.
Mr. Randolph had hardly gone out, when Hephzibah came in. And then followed a lesson the like of which Daisy had not given yet. Hephzibah's attention was on everything but the business in hand. Also, she had a little less awe of Daisy lying on Mrs. Benoit's couch in a loose gown, than when she met her in the Belvidere at Melbourne, dressed in an elegant cambrick frock with a resplendent sash.
"C, a, spells ca, Hephzibah. Now what is that?"
"Over your finger?"
"Yes."
"That's—C."
"C, a. And what does it spell?"
"Did the stone fall right onto your foot?"
"Yes—partly on."
"And was it broke right off?"