Daisy's Aunt   By: Edwin F. Benson (1867-1940)

by

E. F. BENSON

Thomas Nelson and Sons London, Edinburgh, Dublin, Leeds, and New York Leipzig: 35 37 Konigstrasse. Paris: 61 Rue des Saints Peres.

First Published May 1910.

CONTENTS

Chapter I. 7

Chapter II. 27

Chapter III. 42

Chapter IV. 56

Chapter V. 70

Chapter VI. 79

Chapter VII. 95

Chapter VIII. 110

Chapter IX. 118

Chapter X. 147

Chapter XI. 165

Chapter XII. 182

Chapter XIII. 197

Chapter XIV. 215

Chapter XV. 227

Chapter XVI. 240

Chapter XVII. 247

Chapter XVIII. 263

Chapter XIX. 277

Chapter XX. 286

Chapter XXI. 293

Chapter XXII. 308

Chapter XXIII. 320

Chapter XXIV. 333

Chapter XXV. 344

Chapter XXVI. 357

Chapter XXVII. 365

DAISY'S AUNT.

CHAPTER I.

Daisy Hanbury poked her parasol between the bars of the cage, with the amiable intention of scratching the tiger's back. The tiger could not be expected to know this all by himself, and so he savagely bit the end of it off, with diabolical snarlings. Daisy turned to her cousin with a glow of sympathetic pleasure.

"What a darling!" she said. "He didn't understand, you see, and was perfectly furious. And it cost pounds and pounds, and I've spent all my allowance, and so I can't buy another, and my complexion will go to the dogs. Let's go there, too; the dingoes are absolutely fascinating. We'll come back to see these angels fed."

Gladys laughed.

"Daisy, you have got the most admirable temper," she said. "I should have called that brute any names except 'darling' and 'angel.'"

"I know you would, because you don't understand either it or me. I understand both perfectly. You see, you don't love fierce wild things things that are wicked and angry, and, above all, natural. I don't mind good, sweet, gentle things, like oh, like almost everybody, if only they are sweet and good naturally. But generally they are not. Their sweetness is the result of education or morality, or something tedious, not the result of their natures, of themselves. Oh, I know all about it! Gladys, this parasol is beyond hope. Let's conceal it in the bushes like a corpse."

Daisy looked round with a wild and suspicious eye.

"There's a policeman," she said. "I'm sure he'll think that I have murdered my own parasol. Oh, kind Mr. Policeman there, that softened him, and he's looking the other way."

Gladys gave a little shriek of dismay as Daisy thrust her parasol into a laurustinus.

"Oh! but the handle, and the ribs!" she cried. "It only wanted a new point, and and to be recovered. Daisy, I never saw such extravagance. You mustn't leave it. I'll have it done up for you."

"That's angelic of you," said Daisy; "but will you carry it for me in the meantime? It's that that matters. I couldn't be seen going about even at the Zoo with a parasol in that condition. I should have to explain to everybody exactly how it happened, which would take time."

"But of course I'll carry it for you," said Gladys.

Daisy considered this noble offer.

"It's quite too wonderful of you," she said, "but I don't think I could be seen with you if you were carrying it. No; come to the dogs. Oh, Gladys, you are sweet and good and gentle quite, quite naturally, and I adore you."