She knew the tone of great displeasure in her father's voice.

He saw her condition.
"You are not able to sing at this minute," said he.

"Go to your room--I will give you ten minutes to recover yourself.

Then, Daisy, come here and sing--if you like to be at peace with me." But Daisy did not move; she stood there with her two hands clasped on her breast.
"Do you mean that you will not ?" said Mr.Randolph.
"If it wasn't Sunday, papa--" came from Daisy's parted lips.
"Sunday ?" said Mr.Randolph--"is that it?
Now we know where we are.
Daisy--do you hear me ?--turn about and sing your song.

Do not give me another refusal!" But Daisy stood, growing paler and paler, till the whiteness reached her lips, and her father saw that in another minute she would fall.