It crowned Daisy's
satisfaction; with a quiet glad look and word of thanks to her father,
she drove off.
[Illustration: LOUPE.]
The pony waddled along nicely, but as his legs were none of the longest,
their rate of travelling was not precisely of the quickest. Daisy was
not impatient. The afternoon was splendid, the dust had been laid by
late rains, and Daisy looked at her pail and basket with great
contentment. Before she had gone a quarter of a mile from home, she met
her little friend of the wintergreens. Nora sprang across the road to
the chaise.
"O Daisy, where are you going?"
"I am going to carry some things for mamma, to a house."
"All alone?"
"No, Sam is there to take care of me."
Nora looked back at the black pony, and then at Daisy. "Isn't it nice!"
she said, with a sort of half-regretful admiration.
"It's as nice as a fairy tale," said Daisy. "I'm just as good as a
princess, you know, Nora. Don't you want to go, too? Do come."
"No, I musn't--there are people coming to tea. Mrs. Linwood, and Charles
and Jane--I wish I could go! How far is it, Daisy?"
"About five miles.
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