from Daisy, and Daisy slipped away from
her mother's sofa to the table; where she dipped sponge biscuits in milk
and wondered at other people's Sundays. A weight seemed settling down on
her heart. She could not bear to hear the talk; she eat her supper and
then sat down on the threshold of one of the glass doors that looked
towards the west, and watched the beautiful colours on the clouds over
the mountains; and softly sung to herself the tune she had heard in
church in the morning. So the colours faded away, and the light, and the
dusk grew on, and still Daisy sat in the window door humming to
herself. She did not know that Gary McFarlane had stolen up close behind
her and gone away again.

He went away just as company came in; some gay neighbours who found the
evening tempting, and came for a little diversion. Lamps were lit and
talking and laughing went round, till Mrs. Randolph asked where Daisy
was.

"In the window, singing to the stars," Gary McFarlane whispered. "Do you
know, Mrs. Randolph, how she can sing?"

"No,--how? She has a child's voice."

"But not a child's taste or ear," said Gary. "I heard her the other day
warbling the gypsy song in 'The Camp in Silesia,' and she did it to
captivation. Do, Mrs. Randolph, ask her to sing it. I was astonished."

"Do!" said Capt. Drummond; and the request spread and became general.

"Daisy--" said Mrs. Randolph. Daisy did not hear; but the call being
repeated she came from her window, and after speaking to the strangers,
whom she knew, she turned to her mother. The room was all light and
bright and full of gay talkers.

"Daisy," said her mother, "I want you to sing that gypsy song from the
'Camp in Silesia.' Gary says you know it--so he is responsible. _Can_
you sing it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then sing it. Never mind whether you succeed or not; that is of no
consequence."

"Mamma----," began Daisy.

"Well, what?"

Daisy was in great confusion. What to say to her mother she did not
know.

"No matter how you get along with it," repeated Mrs. Randolph. "That is
nothing."

"It isn't that, mamma,--but--"

"Then sing. No more words, Daisy; sing."

"Mamma, please don't ask me!"

"I _have_ asked you. Come Daisy--don't be silly."

"Mamma," whispered Daisy trembling, "I will sing it any other night but
to-night!"

"To-night? what's to-night?"

"To-night is Sunday."

"And is that the reason?"

Daisy stood silent, very much agitated.

"I'll have no non