Stopping in front of the girl and boy, and merely noticing the former by
a supercilious stare, she said to the latter interrogatively:
"Mr. Archibald McPherson?"
"Present!" he answered, with a comical look at Daisy, on whom it was
lost, for she was admiring the smart cap and pink ribbons of the maid,
who said:
"If you are Mr. Archibald, your father wishes to see you. He said I was
to fetch you directly."
Rising slowly Archie shook himself together, and started for the house,
while Daisy looked after him with a new and thoughtful expression on her
face.
"Archie!" she called at last. "Tell Dorothy I shall not come to help her
with the dishes. I have changed my mind. I do not want the shilling."
"All right," was Archie's response, as he walked on never dreaming that
he had that morning sown the first germ of the ambition which was to
overshadow all Daisy Allen's future life, and bear fruit a hundred-fold.
CHAPTER II.
THE McPHERSONS.
The room in which Hugh McPherson was lying was the largest, and coolest,
and best furnished in the house, for since he had been confined to his
bed Dorothy had brought into it everything she thought would make it
more attractive and endurable to the fastidious invalid, who, on the
June morning when his son was in the garden talking to Daisy Allen, was
propped upon pillows scarcely whiter than his thin, worn face, and was
speaking of Archie to his brother John, who was standing before him with
folded arms, and a gloomy, troubled expression on his face.
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