"Come, Daisy, let us be friends!" he said. And he was stooping to kiss me; but I put out my hand to keep him back.
"Not till you have told Darry you are sorry," I said.
Preston was angry instantly, and stood upright.
"Ask pardon of a servant!" he said. "You would have the world upside down directly."
I thought it was upside down already; but I was too weak and downhearted to say so.
"Daisy, Daisy!" said Preston—"And there you lie, looking like a poor little wood flower that has hardly strength to hold up its head; and with about as much colour in your cheeks. Come, Daisy, kiss me, and let us be friends."
"If you will do what is right," I said.
"I will—always," said Preston; "but this would be wrong, you know." And he stooped again to kiss me. And again I would not suffer him.
"Daisy, you are absurd," said Preston, vibrating between pity and anger, I think, as he looked at me. "Darry is a servant, and accustomed to a servant's place. What hurt you so much did not hurt him a bit. He knows where he belongs."