"Your mother is the best judge, Daisy. What are you talking about?"
"That, papa—that you said I might talk to you about."
"What is it? Let us understand one another clearly."
"About—It was only that I liked to pray and give thanks a minute at meal times." Daisy spoke very softly and as if she would fain not have spoken.
"That is a mere indifferent ceremony, Daisy, which some people perform. It is not binding on you, certainly, if your mother has any objection to your doing it."
"But, papa,"—Daisy began eagerly and then checked herself, and went on slowly—"you would not like it if you were to give me anything, and I should not thank you?"
"Cases are not parallel, Daisy."
She wondered in her simplicity why they were not; but her questions had already ventured pretty far; she did not dare count too much upon her father's gentleness. She stood looking at him with unsatisfied eyes.
"In one sense we receive everything we have from the bounty of Heaven."
"Yes, papa."