She sat looking at them, forgetting all the people in the drawing-room; and though troubled enough, she was not utterly unhappy.

The reason was, she loved her King.
Somebody came behind her and took hold of her shoulders.

"My dear little Daisy!" said the voice of Preston, "I wish you were an India-rubber ball, that I might chuck you up to the sky and down again a few times!" "Why?
I don't think it would be nice." "Why ?--why because you want shaking; you are growing dull,--yes, absolutely you are getting heavy! you, little Daisy! of all people in the world.

It won't do." "I don't think such an exercise would benefit me," said Daisy.
"I'd find something else then.

Daisy, Daisy," said he, shaking her shoulders gently, "this religious foolery is spoiling you.