gone her way with her companion. Daisy, on learning that Mrs. Walker
wished to speak to her, retraced her steps with a perfect good grace and
with Mr. Giovanelli at her side. She declared that she was delighted to
have a chance to present this gentleman to Mrs. Walker. She immediately
achieved the introduction, and declared that she had never in her life
seen anything so lovely as Mrs. Walker's carriage rug.

"I am glad you admire it," said this lady, smiling sweetly. "Will you
get in and let me put it over you?"

"Oh, no, thank you," said Daisy. "I shall admire it much more as I see
you driving round with it."

"Do get in and drive with me!" said Mrs. Walker.

"That would be charming, but it's so enchanting just as I am!" and Daisy
gave a brilliant glance at the gentlemen on either side of her.

"It may be enchanting, dear child, but it is not the custom here," urged
Mrs. Walker, leaning forward in her victoria, with her hands devoutly
clasped.

"Well, it ought to be, then!" said Daisy. "If I didn't walk I should
expire."

"You should walk with your mother, dear," cried the lady from Geneva,
losing patience.

"With my mother dear!" exclaimed the young girl. Winterbourne saw that
she scented interference. "My mother never walked ten steps in her life.
And then, you know," she added with a laugh, "I am more than five years
old."

"You are old enough to be more reasonable. You are old enough, dear Miss
Miller, to be talked about."

Daisy looked at Mrs. Walker, smiling intensely. "Talked about? What do
you mean?"

"Come into my carriage, and I will tell you."

Daisy turned her quickened glance again from one of the gentlemen beside
her to the other. Mr. Giovanelli was bowing to and fro, rubbing down
his gloves and laughing very agreeably; Winterbourne thought it a most
unpleasant scene. "I don't think I want to know what you mean," said
Daisy presently. "I don't think I should like it."

Winterbourne wished that Mrs. Walker would tuck in her carriage rug and
drive away, but this lady did not enjoy being defied, as she afterward
told him. "Should you prefer being thought a very reckless girl?" she
demanded.

"Gracious!" exclaimed Daisy. She looked again at Mr. Giovanelli, then
she turned to Winterbourne. There was a little pink flush in her cheek;
she was tremendously pretty. "Does Mr. Winterbourne think," she asked
slowly, smiling, throwing back her head, and glancing at him from
head to foot, "that, to