What use to ask her such a thing as leave to go to the cripple's cottage?
No use at all, Daisy knew.

The request alone would probably move displeasure.

Every look at her mother's face settled this conviction more and more deeply in Daisy's mind; and she ended by giving up the subject.

There was no hope.

She could do nothing for any poor person, she was sure, under her mother's permission, beyond carrying soup and jelly in her pony chaise and maybe going in to give it.