It was a subject of question to Daisy whether the poor creature had had
any other meal that day; so eager she was, and so difficult to satisfy
with the sponge cake. Slice after slice; and Daisy cut more, and put a
tiny fresh pinch of tea into the tea-pot, and waited upon her with
inexpressible tenderness and zeal. Molly exhausted the tea-pot and left
but a small remnant of the cake. Daisy was struck with a sudden fear
that she might have been neglected and really want things to eat. How
could she find out?

"Where shall I put this, Molly?" she said, taking the plate with the
morsel of cake. "Where does it go?"

"In there--" said Molly.

"Here?--or here?" touching the two doors of the cupboard.

"'Tother one."

So Daisy opened the other door of the cupboard, just what she wanted to
do. And there she saw indeed some remnants of food, but nothing more
than remnants; a piece of dry bread and a cold muffin, with a small bit
of boiled pork. Daisy took but a glance, and came away. The plate and
cup and saucer she set in their place; bid good-bye to Molly, and ran
out.

Time indeed! The sun was sending long slant bright beams against the
cottage-windows and over the pony chaise, and the groom had got the
pony's head turned for home, evidently under the impression that Daisy
was staying a long time. A little fearful of consequences if she got
home after sundown, Daisy gathered up her reins and signified to Loupe