"With my mother dear!" exclaimed the young girl. Winterbourne saw that she
scented interference. "My mother never walked ten steps in her life.
And then, you know," she added with a laugh, "I am more than five years old."
"You are old enough to be more reasonable. You are old enough,
dear Miss Miller, to be talked about."
Daisy looked at Mrs. Walker, smiling intensely. "Talked about?
What do you mean?"
"Come into my carriage, and I will tell you."
Daisy turned her quickened glance again from one of the gentlemen beside her
to the other. Mr. Giovanelli was bowing to and fro, rubbing down his gloves
and laughing very agreeably; Winterbourne thought it a most unpleasant scene.
"I don't think I want to know what you mean," said Daisy presently.
"I don't think I should like it."
Winterbourne wished that Mrs. Walker would tuck in her carriage rug and drive
away, but this lady did not enjoy being defied, as she afterward told him.
"Should you prefer being thought a very reckless girl?" she demanded.
"Gracious!" exclaimed Daisy. She looked again at Mr. Giovanelli,
then she turned to Winterbourne.
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