It was characteristically like Mrs.
Randolph; graceful and absolute.

June obeyed it, as old instinct told her to do; though sorely against her will.

She had held hands before, though not Daisy's; and she knew very well the look of the little whip with which her mistress stepped back into the room, having gone to her own for it.

In a Southern home that whip had been wont to live in Mrs.
Randolph's pocket.

June's heart groaned within her.
The whip was small but it had been made for use, not for play; and there was no play in Mrs.Randolph's use of it.