At last they went into the drawing-room again and were drinking coffee.

Daisy was somewhat comforted; she thought Dr.Sandford did not act as if there were anything very dreadful the matter at home.
"Daisy," said the doctor, "you have done work for me to-day--would you object to be paid ?" Daisy looked up smiling; it depended on what the pay might be, she thought; but she said nothing.
"Would it be violently against your principles ?" "I do not want pay, Dr.Sandford." "Not if I were to offer to give you a sight of those little baskets on the frond of the _Marchantia_ ?" Daisy's face all changed; but she said in the quietest manner, "Can you do that, Dr.Sandford ?" "Come with me." He held out his hand, which Daisy willingly took, and they went up stairs together.

Just short of her room the doctor stopped, and turned into his own.

This was a very plain apartment; there was no beauty of furniture, though it struck Daisy there was a great deal of something.
There were boxes, and cabinets, and shelves full of books and boxes, and bookcases, and one or two tables.

Yet it was not a pretty-looking room, like the others in Mrs.Sandford's house.