Logan murmured as he took up the pot in which it was planted--"Less than the best will never serve ye, Miss Daisy"-- but he did not grumble about it after all, and Daisy was content.
She was very content when she had got it in her pony chaise and was driving off, with the magnificent purple-red blossoms at her feet.

How exquisitely those delicate petals were painted, and marked with dashes of red and purple deeper than the general colour.

What rich clusters of blossoms.

Daisy gave only half an eye to her driving; and it was not till she had almost reached Melbourne gate that she discovered her trowel had been forgotten.

She sent her attendant back for it and waited.
Loupe was always willing to stand, lazy little fat fellow that he was; and Daisy was giving her undivided attention to the purple "Jewess," with a sort of soft prayer going on all the while in her heart that her errand might be blessed; when she was suddenly interrupted.
"Why where are you going, Daisy ?" "Where have you been, Preston ?" said Daisy as suddenly drawing up.
"Little Yankee!" said Preston.