"O thank you, papa!" said Daisy, looking delighted.
"Not me," said Mr. Randolph. "I am not to be thanked."
"There's no name in them—" said Daisy.
"That's Preston's gift," said her aunt. Preston was Daisy's oldest cousin; a fine boy of sixteen.
"I like it so much, Preston!" said Daisy, sending a grateful look down the table to where he sat.
"Is Daisy fond of poetry?" inquired Mr. McFarlane with a grave look.
"Very fond," Mrs. Randolph said.
"Dangerous taste!" said Gary. "What is this new consignment?"
"Something valuable—take care of it."
"To be taken with care—right side up," said Gary, putting before Daisy by a stretch of his long arm a little paper covered package. Daisy's cheeks were beginning to grow pink. She unfolded the package.