"Most things in this world are doubtful," said Mr. Randolph; "but we will try."
"Will you choose to have tea now, then?"
"Now? no."
"This is Daisy's time."
"Very well. She must wait for my time."
Not a word did Daisy say; only little alternate throbs of joy and fear, as her father or her mother spoke, passed through her heart. Mrs. Randolph gave it up; and there was another hour of quiet, very sweet to Daisy. Then lights were brought, and again Mrs. Randolph proposed to have the tea served; but again Mr. Randolph negatived her proposal; and things remained as they were. At last Mrs. Randolph was summoned to preside at the tea-table downstairs; for even now there were one or two guests at Melbourne. Then there was a stir in the room upstairs. The tray came with Mr. Randolph's supper; and Daisy had the delight of sharing it, and of being his attendant in chief. He let her do what she would; and without being unquiet, Daisy and her father enjoyed themselves over that entertainment.
"Now I think I could bear a little reading," said Mr.
Randolph, as he laid his head back on his couch.
"What, papa?" said Daisy, a sudden hope starting into some dark corner of her heart, almost without her knowing it.
"What? what you please."
"Shall I read what I like, papa?"