Randolph did not love her daughter, in her way; for
in her way she was fond of Daisy; but the habit of bearing no opposition
to her authority was life-strong, and probably intensified in the
present instance by perceiving that her husband was disposed to shield
the offender. The only person in whose favour the rule ever relaxed, was
Ransom.
June was left with a divided mind, between the dumb indignation which
had never known speech, and an almost equally speechless concern. Daisy
as soon as she was free had made her way to the window; there the child
was, on her knees, her head on her window sill, and weeping as if her
very heart were melting and flowing away drop by drop. And June stood
like a dark statue, looking at her; the wrinkles in her forehead scarce
testifying to the work going on under it. She wanted first of all to see
Daisy in bed; but it seemed hopeless to speak to her; and there the
little round head lay on the window-sill, and the moonbeams poured in
lovingly over it. June stood still and never stirred.
It was a long while before Daisy's sobs began to grow fainter, and June
ventured to put in her word and got Daisy to lay herself on the bed
again.
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