She lay half paralyzed by misery, her eyes filling with tears. There was a possibility that her mum had returned and hadn’t wanted to wake her up. She could be downstairs getting breakfast ready or preparing the schoolwork for the day. But in her heart, Daisy knew this wasn’t true. She got up slowly and went into the Portrait Gallery, determined to ignore Little Charles. She wasn’t in the mood for his demands. “I found my hoop!” he cried. “Where is Minette?” Daisy paused, despite herself. “Minette? Is she your sister?” “Not her!” His voice was an indignant squeak. “I don’t want her! She’s just a girl and my father says girls are a waste of space. Minette is my dog . . . ” “I can’t look for her now,” Daisy said. “I’ll look later. I promise, Little Charles.” She hurried by the General, keeping her eyes away.
