In the drawing-room, when they were taking tea, Daisy carried her cup of milk and cake to a chair close by Preston.
"Well, Daisy, what now?"
"I want to talk to you about the pictures, Preston."
"We did finely to-day, Daisy! If only I could get the cramp out of Frederica's fingers."
"Cramp!" said Daisy.
"Yes. She picks up that handkerchief of hers as if her hand was a bird's claw. I can't get a blue jay or a canary out of my head when I see her. Did you ever see a bird scratch its eye with its claw, Daisy?"
"Yes."
"Well, that is what she puts me in mind of. That handkerchief kills Marie Antoinette, dead. And she won't take advice or she can't. It is a pity you hadn't it to do; you would hold it right queenly. You do Esther capitally. I don't believe a Northern girl can manage that sort of thing."
Daisy sipped her milk and eat crumbs of cake for a minute without making any answer.
"Preston, I am going to let Nora be Queen Esther."