I was afraid you were sick." One of Molly's grunts came here.

Daisy could not tell what it meant.
"_Are_ you sick, Molly ?" "It's me and not you"-- said the cripple morosely.
"O I am sorry!" said Daisy tenderly.

"I want to bring in something for you--" She ran away for her basket.

Coming back, she left the door open to let in the sweet air and sun.
"What is the matter with you, Molly ?" The cripple made no answer, not even a grunt; her eyes were fastened on the basket.

Daisy lifted the cover and brought out her cake, wrapped in paper.