I want to see her to tell her about it." Mr.Randolph had it on his tongue to say that somebody else might do that; but looking down at Daisy, the sight of the pale face and hollow eyes stopped him.

He sat down and drew Daisy up to his side.
"I will let you go." "Thank you, papa!" "Do you know," said Mr.Randolph, "that your mother is going to ask you to sing that song again when Sunday evening comes ?" The smile vanished from Daisy's face; it grew suddenly dark; and a shuddering motion was both seen and felt by Mr.Randolph, whose arm was round her.
"Daisy," said he, not unkindly, "do you know that I think you a little fool ?" She lifted her eyes quickly, and in their meeting with her father's there was much; much that Mr.Randolph felt without stopping to analyze, and that made his own face as suddenly sober as her own.

There was no folly in that quick grave look of question or appeal; it seemed to carry the charge in another direction.
"You think it is not right to sing such a song on a Sunday ?" he asked.
"No, papa." "But suppose, by singing it, you could do a great deal of good, instead of harm ?" "How, papa ?" "I will give you a hundred dollars for singing it,--which you may spend as you please for all the poor people about Melbourne or Crum Elbow." It was very singular to him to see the changes in Daisy's face.

Light and shadow came and went with struggling quickness.

He expected her to speak, but she waited for several minutes; then she said in a troubled voice,--"Papa, I will think of it." "Is that all, Daisy ?" said Mr.Randolph, disappointed.
"I am going to Mrs.Harbonner's, papa, and I will think, and tell you." Mr.Randolph was inclined to frown and suspect obstinacy; but the meek little lips which offered themselves for a kiss disarmed him of any such thought.