"And won't you be tired before that?"
"Oh, no, papa! I am going to fish too."
"I'll have all you catch, Daisy, for my own eating!"
He bent his head down as he spoke, to kiss the little fisherwoman; but Daisy, answering some unusual tenderness of face or manner, sprung up and threw her arms round his neck, and only released him after a very close pressure.
"She is in a fair way to be cured of her morbid seriousness," Mr. Randolph thought as he saw the cavalcade set forth; and, well pleased, he went in to breakfast. Daisy and Preston had breakfasted already, before the family; and now were off to the hills just as other people were stirring sugar into cups of coffee.
Preston led the way on a fine bay of his uncle's; taking good gallops now and then to ease his own and his horse's spirits, and returning to go quietly for a space by the side of the pony-chaise. Loupe never went into anything more exciting than his waddling trot; though Daisy made him keep that up briskly.
"What a thing it is, to have such short legs!" said Preston, watching the movements of the pony.
"You go over the road without seeing it," said Daisy.
"I don't want to see it. What I want to see is Hillsdale."
"So do I; but I want to see everything."