The lady was alone this time. How like herself she looked, handsome and stately, in characteristic elegance of attire and manner both. Her white morning dress floated off in soft edges of lace from her white arms; a shawl of precious texture was gathered loosely about them; on her head a gossamer web of some fancy manufacture fell off on either side, a mock covering for it. She came up to Daisy and kissed her, and then examined into her various arrangements, to see that she was in all respects well and properly cared for. Her mother's presence made Daisy feel very meek. Her kiss had been affectionate, her care was motherly; but with all that there was not a turn of her hand nor a tone of her calm voice that did not imply and express absolute possession, perfect control. That Daisy was a little piece of property belonging to her in sole right, with which she did and would do precisely what it might please her, with very little concern how or whether it might please Daisy. Daisy was very far from putting all this in words, or even in distinct thoughts; nevertheless she felt and knew every bit of it; her mother's hand did not touch Daisy's foot or her shoulder, without her inward consciousness what a powerful hand it was. Now it is true that all this was in one way no new thing; Daisy had always known her mother's authority to be just what it was now; but it was only of late that a question had arisen about the bearing of this authority upon her own little life and interests. With the struggle that had been, and the new knowledge that more struggles in the future were not impossible, the consciousness of her mother's power over her had a new effect. Mrs. Randolph sat down and took out her tetting work; but she only did a few stitches. "What child was that I met running from the house as I came up?" she asked, a little to Daisy's discomfiture. "It was a little girl who belongs in the village, mamma." "How comes she to know you?" "It happened by accident partly, in the first place." "What accident?" "Mamma, I will tell you another time, if you will let me." For Daisy knew that Juanita was not far off. But Mrs. Randolph only said, "Tell me now." "Mamma--it was partly an accident," Daisy repeated. "I found out by accident that they were very poor--and I carried them something to eat." "Whom do you mean by 'them?'" "That little girl and her mother--Mrs. Harbonner." "When did you do this?" "About the time of my birthday." "And you have kept up the acquaintance since that time?" "I carried the woman work once, mamma. I had papa's leave to go." "Did you ask mine?" "No, mamma. It was papa who had forbidden me to go into any house without leave; so I asked him to let me tell her about the work." "What was this child here for to-day?" "Mamma--she is a poor child and could not go to school; and--I was trying to teach her something." "What were you trying to teach her?" "To read, mamma--and to do right." "Have you ever done this before?"