"Is she unwell?" Mr. Randolph asked, in a startled tone.
"No, sir." June's tone was dry.
Mr. Randolph marched at once to the room in question, where
Daisy was eating her bread and milk.
"What are you doing, Daisy?"
"Papa!" said the child, with a start; and then quietly, "I am taking my supper."
"Were you not at the table down stairs?"
"Yes, papa."
"How came you not to have your supper there?"
"I had to come away, papa."
"Are you not well, Daisy?" said Mr. Randolph, tenderly, bending down over her chair.