After tea the doctor took Daisy in his gig and drove her home. The drive was unmarked by a single thing; except that just as they were passing the cripple's house Daisy broke silence and asked, "Is that woman Molly Skelton is she very poor, Dr. Sandford?"
"If to live on charity be poor. I do not suppose the neighbours let her suffer."
"Is she cross to everybody, Dr. Sandford?"
"She has the name of it, I believe, Daisy. I really do not remember whether she was cross to me or not."
"Then you know her?"
"Yes. I know everybody."
The family at Melbourne were found just taking their late tea as the doctor and Daisy entered. They were met with complaints of the heat; though Daisy thought the drawing room was exceeding pleasant, the air came in at the long windows with such gentle freshness from the river.
The doctor took a cup of tea and declared the day was excellent if you only rode fifty miles through the heat of it. "Coolness is coolness, after that," he said.
Daisy sat in a corner and wondered at the people. Hot? and suffocating? she had no recollection of any such thing all day. How delicious it had been in that green dell under the walnut tree, with the grey squirrels!
"How has it been with you, Daisy?" said her aunt at last.