Daisy needed no second intimation. She bounced out of her chair, agile and untired as though it were morning and she just up. Then she paused a moment, and her face fell a little. "My skirt is all right," she said, "but I have no clean waist." Jean paused; knuckles reflectively akimbo. "What's y'r size, lassie?" she said. "Thirty-eight." "Thirty-eight," Jean's eyes opened; "losh, ye're fu'-breastit for a bairn. I doubt a waist o' mine wadna be much aboon yir fit. I'm wide across; but ye're fair wide too, an' then ye come out in front forbye. Gie your face a dicht off whilst I rummage my trunk." A little less than half an hour later, Daisy,--her serge skirt brushed by Jean's friendly hand to an appearance of almost newness, and wearing a silk waist of Miss McTavish's that, with a few shrewd tucks here and there, had been reduced to fit Daisy's round, plump torso--came dancingly out between the stone gateposts at the end of the Harrison drive. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Every nerve tingled with the zest of life. As she reached the sidewalk, a battered auto was just about to turn in the gateway through which she had come. At her appearance, however, the driver came to a halt. "Hello, stranger," he said, sociably, "where d'ye think you're going." Daisy, who knew how to "use her eyes," assumed an expression which, just fitted the occasion. "Got a dollar you ain't usin'?" enquired the chauffeur, who was her creditor of the jitney fare. He did not glance at her as he spoke, but continued to look straight before him in his characteristic, businesslike way--showing, as formerly, a humorous profile, an eye-corner that twinkled, and hair so thick and curly that he was obliged to keep his peaked driver's cap sideways to keep it on at all. Daisy looked down, moving her toe with shyness, among the grass-roots at the edge of the sidewalk. "I have ten cents," she said, "for--for street-car fare." "Carfare where to?" enquired the taxi-driver, promptly. "Nowhere," said Daisy. "They're a poor bunch there. Don't go. Stranger in town?" "Oh, not too strange, you know," said Daisy, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "That's all right, then," the young man opened the fore-door of his car and moved over a little on his seat. "Jump in. I'll whirl you out to city park." "Oh-h, no-o-o," Daisy made her mouth into a mischevious oval of protest, "I couldn't do-oo that." "Why couldn't you?" the driver's head jerked half-around, in a brief study of her face. "Got to report to mother?" "I couldn't afford it," said Daisy; "I'm in debt now, ain't I?" "You're in debt," said the young man, "but your credit's good as long as I got the gasoline. Hop in!" The girl stepped forward; set her toe on the running-board; then drew it off, and backed away. "Try again," observed the driver, dryly; "one--two--three--go!" "What's out at this city park?" said Daisy.