The daughter was busy at some ironing in the outer room; she was a dull, lack-lustre creature, and though she comprehended the gifts that had been brought her, seemed hardly to have life enough to thank the donor.

_That_ wasn't quite like a fairy tale, Daisy thought.
No doubt this poor woman must have things to eat, but there was not much fun in bringing them to her.

Daisy was inclined to wonder how she had ever come to marry anybody with so lively a name as Lark.

But before she got away, Mrs.Lark asked Daisy to go in and see her mother, and Daisy, not knowing how to refuse, went in as requested.
What a change! Another poor room to be sure, very poor it looked to Daisy; with its strip of rag carpet on the floor, its rush-bottomed chairs, and paper window-shades; and on the bed lay the bed-ridden woman.

But with such a nice pleasant face; eyes so lively and quiet, smile so contented, brow so calm, Daisy wondered if it could be she that must lie there always and never go about again as long as she lived.