"I have been to Crum Elbow this afternoon." "Yes, and how late you stayed. Why did you?" "Loupe lost a shoe. I had to wait for Sam to go to the blacksmith's with him." "Really. Did you wait in the road?" "No. I had a place to wait." "I dare say you are as hungry as a bear," said Preston. "Now here comes tea--and waffles, Daisy; you shall have some waffles and cream. That will make you feel better." "Cream isn't good with waffles," said Daisy. "Yes it is. Cream is good with everything. You shall try. I know! I am always cross myself when I am hungry." "I am not hungry, Preston; and I don't think I am cross." "What are you, then? Come, Daisy,--here is a cup of tea, and here is a waffle. First the sugar--there,--then the cream. So." "You have spoiled it, Preston." "Eat it--and confess you are hungry and cross too." Daisy could have laughed, only she was too sore-hearted, and would surely have cried. She fell to eating the creamed waffle. "Is it good?" "Very good!" "Confess you are hungry and cross, Daisy." "I am not cross. And Preston, please!--don't!" Daisy's fork fell; but she took it up again. "What is the matter, then, Daisy?" Daisy did not answer; she went on eating as diligently as she could. "Is it that foolish business of the song?" whispered Preston. "Is _that_ the trouble, Daisy?" "Please don't, Preston!"-- "Well I won't, till you have had another waffle. Sugar and cream, Daisy?" "Yes." "That's brave! Now eat it up--and tell me, Daisy, is _that_ the trouble with you?" He spoke affectionately, as he almost always did to her; and Daisy did not throw him off. "You don't understand it, Preston," she said. "Daisy, I told you my uncle and aunt would not like that sort of thing." Daisy was silent, and Preston wondered at her. Mrs. Gary drew near at this moment, and placed herself opposite Daisy's tea-cup, using her eyes in the first place. "What are you talking about?" said she. "About Daisy's singing, ma'am." "That's the very thing," said Mrs. Gary, "that I wanted to speak about. Daisy, my dear, I hope you are going to sing it properly to your mother the next time she bids you?" Daisy was silent. "I wanted to tell you, my dear," said Mrs. Gary impressively, "what a poor appearance your refusal made, the other evening. You could not see it for yourself; but it made you seem awkward, and foolish, and ill-bred. I am sure everybody would have laughed, if it had not been for politeness towards your mother; for the spectacle was ludicrous, thoroughly. You like to make a graceful appearance, don't you?" Daisy answered in a low voice,--"Yes, ma'am; when I can." "Well you _can_, my dear, for your behaviour is generally graceful, and unexceptionable; only the other night it was very rough and uncouth. I expected you to put your finger in your mouth the next thing, and stand as if you had never seen anybody. And Daisy Randolph!--the heiress of Melbourne and Cranford!"--