"What were you doing, down there in the dirt?"
"Preston, if you please, I cannot talk to you nicely while you are so high and I am so low."
Preston was certainly at some height above Daisy, being mounted up in his saddle on a pretty high horse, while the pony-chaise was hung very near the ground. He had been beside her; but at her last words he laughed and set off at a good pace in advance, leaving the chaise to come along in Loupe's manner. Daisy drove contentedly home through the afternoon sunlight, which laid bands of brightness across her road all the way home. They seemed bands of joy to Daisy.
Preston had galloped ahead, and was at the door ready to meet her. "What kept you so long at that dismal place?" he asked, as he handed her out of the chaise.
"You were back very soon from the Fish place, I think," said
Daisy.
"Yes Alexander was not at home; there was no use in my staying. But what were you doing all that while, Daisy?"
"It was not so very long," said Daisy. "I did not think it was a long time. You must have deceived yourself."
"But do you not mean to tell me what you were about? What could you do, at such a place?"
Daisy stood on the piazza, in all the light of the afternoon sunbeams, looking and feeling puzzled. How much was it worth while to try to tell Preston of her thoughts and wishes?
"What was the attraction, Daisy? only tell me that. Dirt and ignorance and rudeness and disorder and you contented to be in the midst of it! Down in the dirt! What was the attraction?"