That would
not be hard, nor spoil your hands."
"I am afraid it would, little Daze," the boy replied. "You will have to
try again. It would never do for a McPherson to be in trade. We were not
born to it. How would _gambling_ suit you? Piles of money are made that
way."
"Gambling!" Daisy repeated, and could Miss Betsey McPherson have seen
the scorn which flashed in the eyes of Daisy Allen, she would have
forgiven the Daisy McPherson whom she saw years after upon the terrace
at Aberystwyth flirting with Lord Hardy.
But the Daisy of the Marine Terrace was a very different person from the
young girl who, with a hand upon each hip and her head on one side, gave
Archie a piece of her mind in terms neither mild nor selected.
"Gambling! I'd never speak to you again if you stooped to such a thing
as to play for money. You'd better a thousand times sell butcher's meat
at the corner, or cry gooseberries in the street! Suppose you are a
gentleman, a McPherson, without money, must you either gamble, or sit
still and let some one else take care of you? It won't hurt _you_ to
work any more than any body else, and you'll have to do something.
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