"She is very unhappy, Preston."
"I don't believe it. Nonsense! All that is not misery to such people, unless you make it so by showing them something different. Marble tables are not the thing for them, Daisy."
"Marble tables!" echoed Daisy.
"Nor fuchsias and geraniums either. That old thing's old flowers do just as well."
Daisy was silent. She could have answered this. Preston went on.
"She won't be any better with her garden full of roses and myrtles, than she is with her sunflowers now. What do you expect to do, little Daisy?"
"I know what I would like if I were in her place," said Daisy.
"You, but she is not you. She has not your tastes. Do you mean to carry her a silver cup and fork, Daisy? You would certainly like that, if you were in her place. Dear little Daisy, don't you be a mad philosopher."
But Daisy had not been thinking of silver cups and forks, and she was not misled by this argument.
"Daisy, do you see you have been under a mistake?"