"You must not, of course, say 'ma'am'. But externals can be attended to gradually. Do you care for your—for my son?"
"I guess so," said Daisy.
Lady Frances, for an instant, looked at her so freezingly that Daisy moved her knees uncomfortably.
"That answer," said the old gentlewoman, "pleases me less than anything you have said, up to this point. I had hoped to find more enthusiasm—much more enthusiasm. In fact, it will be quite necessary to convince me that you are frankly enthusiastic in this matter before we shall get along at all."
"Daisy," put in Sir William, shrewdly, "is non-committal by nature, mother. You yourself know that you prefer that to evasiveness or untruthfulness. We shall be able to reassure you...."
"I shall most decidedly expect to be reassured," said Lady Frances Ware. She rose energetically to her feet.
"You may go now," she said, glancing in Daisy's direction. "Return to your room until I have Ada look you up something to put on. Will, I should like to see you again before you go downtown."
With these words, Lady Frances Ware returned to her duties among the flowers and hedges and shrubbery, in the fresh air that had brought her to past fourscore with full retention of middle-aged vigor in faculty and body. As she passed down the outer hall, she instructed the maid as to Daisy's attire.
"I think we shall go along very finely, dear," Sir William said as he went upstairs with an arm about Daisy's shoulder. "Now, as soon as Ada is through with you, I shall take you out for a spin—just our two selves. Can you drive a motor? No—then we'll have a lesson this very morning. It will be fine sport.... And, by the way, talking of 'going out' suggests going away. Where shall we go, for a bit of a wedding trip?"
"No place—not just now," Daisy looked up, then set her head on one side, put a finger under Sir William's lapel, and dropped her lashes, "I tell you what I would like to do, though, sir."