The Daisy Chain, or Aspirations
Saw ye never in the meadows,
Where your little feet did pass,
Down below, the sweet white daisies
Growing in the long green grass?
Saw you never lilac blossoms,
Or acacia white and red,
Waving brightly in the sunshine,
On the tall trees over head?
HYMNS FOR CHILDREN, C. F. A.
"My dear child, what a storm you have had! how wet you must be!"
exclaimed Mrs. Larpent, as Meta Rivers came bounding up the broad staircase
at Abbotstoke Grange.
"Oh no; I am quite dry; feel."
"Are you sure?" said Mrs. Larpent, drawing her darling into a luxurious
bedroom, lighted up by a glowing fire, and full of pretty things. "Here, come
and take off your wet things, my dear, and Bellairs shall bring you some tea."
"I'm dry. I'm warm," said Meta, tossing off her plumy hat, as she established
herself, with her feet on the fender. "But where do you think I have been?
You have so much to hear. But first--three guesses where we were in the
"In the Stoneborough Cloisters, that you wanted to see? My dear, you did not
keep your papa in the cold there?"
"No, no; we never got there at all; guess again."
"At Mr. Edward Wilmot's?"
"Could it have been at Dr. May's? Really, then, you must tell me."
"There! you deserve a good long story; beginning at the beginning," said
Meta, clapping her hands, "wasn't it curious? as we were coming up the last
hill, we met some girls in deep mourning, with a lady who looked like their
governess. I wondered whether they could be Dr. May's daughters, and so it
turned out they were.
"Presently there began to fall little square lumps, neither hail, nor snow, nor
rain; it grew very cold, and rain came on. It would have been great fun, if I