DAISY

BYELIZABETH WETHERELL

AUTHOR OF"THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD, " "QUEECHY, "ETC. , ETC. 

LONDON :

WARD, LOCK & CO. , LIMITED

NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. MISS PINSHON

CHAPTER II. MY HOME

CHAPTER III. THE MULTIPLICATION TABLE

CHAPTER IV. SEVEN HUNDRED PEOPLE

CHAPTER V. IN THE KITCHEN

CHAPTER VI. WINTER AND SUMMER

CHAPTER VII. SINGLEHANDED

CHAPTER VIII. EGYPTIAN GLASS

CHAPTER IX. SHOPPING

CHAPTER X. SCHOOL

CHAPTER XI. A PLACE IN THE WORLD

CHAPTER XII. FRENCH DRESSES

CHAPTER XIII. GREY COATS

CHAPTER XIV. YANKEES

CHAPTER XV. FORT PUTNAM

CHAPTER XVI. HOPS

CHAPTER XVII. OBEYING ORDERS

CHAPTER XVIII. SOUTH AND NORTH

CHAPTER XIX. ENTERED FOR THE WAR

CHAPTER I. 

MISS PINSHON. 

I want an excuse to myself for writing my own life; an excusefor the indulgence of going it all over again, as I have sooften gone over bits. It has not been more remarkable thanthousands of others. Yet every life has in it a thread ofpresent truth and possible glory. Let me follow out the truthto the glory. 

The first bright years of my childhood I will pass. They werechildishly bright. They lasted till my eleventh summer. Thenthe light of heavenly truth was woven in with the web of mymortal existence; and whatever the rest of the web has been, those golden threads have always run through it all the restof the way. Just as I reached my birthday that summer and wasten years old, I became a Christian. 

For the rest of that summer I was a glad child. The brightnessof those days is a treasure safe locked up in a chamber of mymemory. I have known other glad times too in my life; othertimes of even higher enjoyment. But among all the driedflowers of my memory, there is not one that keeps a fresherperfume or a stronger scent of its life than this one. Thosewere the days without cloud; before life shadows had begun tocast their blackness over the landscape. And even though suchshadows do go as well as come, and leave the intervals as sun-lit as ever; yet, after that change of the first life shadowis once seen, it is impossible to forget that it may comeagain and darken the sun. I do not mean that the days, of thatsummer were absolutely without things to trouble me; I hadchanges of light and shade; but on the whole, nothing that didnot heighten the light. They were pleasant days I had inJuanita's cottage at the time when my ankle was broken; therewere hours of sweetness with crippled Molly; and it was simplydelight I had all alone with my pony Loupe, driving over thesunny and shady roads, free to do as I liked and go where Iliked. And how I enjoyed studying English history with mycousin Preston. It is all stowed away in my heart, as freshand sweet as at first. I will not pull it out now. The change, and my first real life shadow came, when my father was thrownfrom his horse and injured his head. Then the doctors decidedhe must go abroad and travel, and mamma decided it was bestthat I should go to Magnolia with aunt Gary and have agoverness. 

There is no pleasure in thinking of those weeks. They wentvery slowly, and yet very fast; while I counted every minuteand noted every step in the preparations. They were all overat last; my little world was gone from me; and I was leftalone with aunt Gary. 

Her preparations had been made too; and the day after thesteamer sailed we set off on our journey to the south. I donot know much about that journey. For the most part the thingsby the way were like objects in a mist to me and no moreclearly discerned. Now and then there came a rift in the mist;something woke me up out of my sorrow-dream; and of thosepoints and of what struck my eyes at those minutes I have amost intense and vivid recollection. I can feel yet the stillair of one early morning's start, and hear the talk between myaunt and the hotel people about the luggage. My aunt was agreat traveller and wanted no one to help her or manage forher. I remember acutely a beggar who spoke to us on thesidewalk at Washington. We staid over a few days inWashington, and then hurried on; for when she was on the roadmy aunt Gary lost not a minute. We went, I presume, as fast aswe could without travelling all night; and our last day'sjourney added that too. 

By that time my head was getting steadied, perhaps, from thegrief which had bewildered it; or grief was settling down andtaking its proper place at the bottom of my heart, leaving thesurface as usual. For twelve hours that day we went by a slowrailway train through a country of weary monotony. Endlessforests of pine seemed all that was to be seen; scarce ever avillage; here and there a miserable clearing and forlorn-looking house; here and there stoppages of a few minutes tolet somebody out or take somebody in; once, to my greatsurprise, a stop of rather more than a few minutes toaccommodate a lady who wanted some flowers gathered for her. Iwas surprised to see flowers wild in the woods at that time ofyear, and much struck with the politeness of the railway trainthat was willing to delay for such a reason. We got out of thecar for dinner, or for a short rest at dinner-time. My aunthad brought her lunch in a basket. Then the forests and therumble of the cars began again. At one time the pine forestswere exchanged for oak, I remember; after that, nothing butpine. 

It was late in the day, when we left the cars at one of thosesolitary wayside station-houses. I shall never forget the lookand feeling of the place. We had been for some miles goingthrough a region of swamp or swampy woods, where sometimes therails were laid on piles in the water. This little station-house was in the midst of such a region. The woods were thickand tangled with vines everywhere beyond the edge of theclearing; the ground was wet beneath them and in places showedstanding water. There was scarcely a clearing; the forest wasall round the house; with only the two breaks in it where onone side and on the other the iron rail track ran off into thedistance. It was a lonely place; almost nobody was therewaiting for the train; one or two forlorn coloured people anda long lank-looking countryman, were all. Except what at firstprevented my seeing anything else — my cousin Preston. He metme just as I was going to get down from the car; lifted me tothe platform; and then with his looks and words almost brokeup the composure which for several days had been growing uponme. It was not hardened yet to bear attacks. I was like a poorshell-fish, which having lost one coat of armour and defence, craves a place of hiding and shelter for itself until its newcoat be grown. While he was begging me to come into thestation-house and rest, I stood still looking up the long lineof railway by which we had come, feeling as if my life lay atthe other end of it, out of sight and quite beyond reach. YetI asked him not to call me "poor" Daisy. I was very tired, andI suppose my nerves not very steady. Preston said we must waitat that place for another train; there was a fork in the roadbeyond, and this train would not go the right way. It wouldnot take us to Baytown. So he had me into the station-house. 

It wearied me, and so did all that my eyes lighted upon, strange though it was. The bare room, not clean; the boardpartition, with swinging doors, behind which, Preston said, were the cook and the baker; the untidy waiting girls thatcame and went, with scant gowns and coarse shoes, and nothread of white collar to relieve the dusky throat and headrising out of the dark gown; and no apron at all. Preston didwhat he could. He sent away the girls with their trays ofeatables; he had a table pulled out from the wall and wipedoff; and then he ordered a supper of eggs, and johnny cake, and all sorts of things. But I could not eat. As soon assupper was over I went out on the platform to watch the longlines of railway running off through the forest, and wait forthe coming train. The evening fell while we looked; the trainwas late; and at last when it came I could only know it in thedistance by the red spark of its locomotive gleaming like afirefly. 

It was a freight train; there was but one passenger car, andthat was full. We got seats with difficulty, and apart fromeach other. I hardly know whether that, or anything, couldhave made me more forlorn. I was already stiff and weary withthe twelve hours of travelling we had gone through that day;inexpressibly weary in heart. It seemed to me that I could notendure long the rumble and the jar and the closeness of thislast car. The passengers, too, had habits which made me drawmy clothes as tight around me as I could, and shrink awaymentally into the smallest compass possible. I had noticed thelike, to be sure, ever since we left Washington; but to-night, in my weary, faint, and tired-out state of mind and body, every unseemly sight or sound struck my nerves with a sense ofpain that was hardly endurable. I wondered if the train wouldgo on all night; it went very slowly. And I noticed thatnobody seemed impatient or had the air of expecting that itwould soon find its journey's end. I felt as if I could notbear it many half hours. My next neighbour was a fat, good-natured old lady, who rather made matters worse by putting herarm round me and hugging me up, and begging me to make apillow of her and go to sleep. My nerves were twitching withimpatience and the desire for relief; when suddenly thethought came to me that I might please the Lord by beingpatient. I remember what a lull the thought of Him brought;and yet how difficult it was not to be impatient, till I fixedmy mind on some Bible words, — they were the words of thetwenty-third psalm, — and began to think and pray them over. So good they were, that by and by they rested me. I droppedasleep and forgot my aches and weariness until the trainarrived at Baytown. 

They took me to a hotel then, and put me to bed, and I did notget up for several days. I must have been feverish; for myfancies wandered incessantly in unknown places with papa, inregions of the old world; and sometimes, I think, took bothhim and myself to rest and home where wanderings are over. After a few days this passed away. I was able to comedownstairs; and both Preston and his mother did their best totake good care of me. Especially Preston. He brought me books, and fruit and birds to tempt me to eat; and was my kind andconstant companion when his mother was out, and indeed whenshe was in, too. So I got better, by the help of oranges andrice-birds. I could have got better faster, but for my dreadof a governess which was hanging over me. I heard nothingabout her, and could not bear to ask. One day Preston broughtthe matter up and asked if Daisy was going to have aschoolmistress?

"Certainly, " my aunt Gary said. "She must be educated, youknow. "

"_I_ don't know, " said Preston; "but if they say so, I supposeshe must. Who is it to be, mamma?"

"You do not know anything about it, " said aunt Gary. "If myson was going to marry the greatest heiress in the State — andshe is very nearly that; — goodness! I did not see you werethere, Daisy, my dear; but it makes no difference; — I shouldthink it proper that she should be educated. "

"I can't see what her being an heiress should have to do withit, " said Preston, — "except rather to make it unnecessary aswell as a bore. Who is it, mamma?"

"I have recommended Miss Pinshon. "

"Oh, then, it is not fixed yet. "

"Yes, it is fixed. Miss Pinshon is coming as soon as we get toMagnolia. "

"I'll be off before that, " said Preston. "Who is MissPinshon?"

"How should _you_ know? She has lived at Jessamine Bank, —educated the Dalzell girls. "

"What sort of a person, mamma?"

"What sort of a person?" said my aunt Gary; "why, a governesssort of person. What sort should she be?"

"Any other sort in the world, " said Preston, "for my money. That is just the sort to worry poor little Daisy out of herlife. "

"You are a foolish boy!" said aunt Gary. "Of course, if youfill Daisy's head with notions, she will not get them outagain. If you have anything of that sort to say, you hadbetter say it where she will not hear. "

"Daisy has eyes — and a head, " said Preston. 

As soon as I was able for it Preston took me out for shortwalks; and as I grew stronger he made the walks longer. Thecity was a strange place to me; very unlike New York; therewas much to see and many a story to hear; and Preston and Ienjoyed ourselves. Aunt Gary was busy making visits, I think. There was a beautiful walk by the sea, which I liked best ofall; and when it was not too cold my greatest pleasure was tosit there looking over the dark waters and sending my wholesoul across them to that unknown spot where my father andmother were. "Home, " that spot was to me. Preston did not knowwhat I liked the Esplanade for; he sometimes laughed at me forbeing poetical and meditative; when I was only sending myheart over the water. But he was glad to please me in all thathe could; and whenever it was not too cold, our walks alwaystook me there. 

One day, sitting there, I remember we had a great argumentabout studying. Preston began with saying that I must not mindthis governess that was coming, nor do anything she bade meunless I liked it. As I gave him no answer, he repeated whathe had said. 

"You know, Daisy, you are not obliged to care what shethinks. "

I said I thought I was. 

"What for?" said Preston. 

"I have a great deal to learn, you know, " I said, feeling itvery gravely indeed in my little heart. 

"What do you want to know so much?" said Preston. 

I said, "everything". I was very ignorant. 

"You are no such thing, " said Preston. "Your head is full thisminute. I think you have about as much knowledge as is goodfor you. I mean to take care that you do not get too much. "

"Oh, Preston, " said I, "that is very wrong. I have not anyknowledge scarcely. "

"There is no occasion, " said Preston stoutly. "I hate learnedwomen. "

"Don't you like to learn things?"

"That's another matter, " said he. "A man must know things, orhe can't get along. Women are different. "

"But I think it is nice to know things too, " said I. "I don'tsee how it is different. "

"Why, a woman need not be a lawyer, or a doctor, or aprofessor, " said Preston; "all she need do, is to have goodsense and dress herself nicely. "

"Is dressing so important?" said I, with a new light breakingover me. 

"Certainly. Ribbands of the wrong colour will half kill awoman. And I have heard aunt Randolph say that a particularlady was ruined by her gloves. "

"Ruined by her gloves!" said I. "Did she buy so many?"

Preston went into such a laugh at that, I had to wait sometime before I could go on. I saw I had made some mistake, andI would not renew that subject. 

"Do _you_ mean to be anything of that sort?" I said, with somewant of connection. 

"What sort? Ruined by my gloves? Not if I know it. "

"No, no! I mean, a lawyer or a doctor or a professor?"

"I should think not!" said Preston, with a more emphaticdenial. 

"Then, what are you studying for?"

"Because, as I told you, Daisy, a man must know things, or hecannot get on in the world. "

I pondered the matter, and then I said, I should think goodsense would make a woman study too. I did not see thedifference. "Besides, Preston, " I said, "if she didn't, theywould not be equal. "

"Equal!" cried Preston. "Equal! Oh, Daisy, you ought to havelived in some old times. You are two hundred years old, atleast. Now don't go to studying that, but come home. You havesat here long enough. "

It was my last hour of freedom. Perhaps for that reason Iremember every minute so distinctly. On our way home we met anegro funeral. I stopped to look at it. Something, I do notknow what, in the long line of dark figures, orderly and evenstately in their demeanour, the white dresses of the women, the peculiar faces of men and women both, fascinated my eyes. Preston exclaimed at me again. It was the commonest sight inthe world, he said. It was their pride to have a grandfuneral. I asked if this was a grand funeral. Preston said"Pretty well; there must be several hundred of them and theywere well dressed. " And then he grew impatient and hurried meon. But I was thinking; and before we got to the hotel wherewe lodged, I asked Preston if there were many coloured peopleat Magnolia. 

"Lots of them, " he said. "There isn't anything else. "

"Preston, " I said presently, "I want to buy some candysomewhere. "

Preston was very much pleased, I believe, thinking that mythoughts had quite left the current of sober things. He tookme to a famous confectioner's; and there I bought sweet thingstill my little stock of money was all gone. 

"No more funds?" said Preston. Never mind, — go on, and I'llhelp you. Why, I never knew you liked sugarplums so much. Whatnext? burnt almonds? this is good, Daisy, — this confection ofroses. But you must take all this sugar in small doses, or Iam afraid it wouldn't be just beneficial. "

"Oh, Preston!" I said, — "I do not mean to eat all thismyself. "

"Are you going to propitiate Miss Pinshon with it? I have apresentiment that sweets wont sweeten her, Daisy. "

"I don't know what "propitiate" means, " I said, sighing. "Iwill not take the almonds, Preston. "

But he was determined I should; and to the almonds he added aquantity of the delicate confection he spoke of, which I hadthought too delicate and costly for the uses I purposed; andafter the rose he ordered candied fruits; till a great packageof varieties was made up. Preston paid for them — I could nothelp it — and desired them sent home; but I was bent on takingthe package myself. Preston would not let me do that, so hecarried it; which was a much more serious token of kindness, in him, than footing the bill. It was but a little way, however, to the hotel. We were in the hall, and I was justtaking my sugars from Preston to carry them upstairs, when Iheard aunt Gary call my name from the parlour. Instinctively, I cannot tell how, I knew from her tone what she wanted mefor. I put back the package in Preston's hands, and walked in;my play over. 

How well I knew my play was over, when I saw my governess. Shewas sitting by my aunt on the sofa. Quite different from whatI had expected, so different that I walked up to her in amaze, and yet seemed to recognise in that first view all thatwas coming after. Probably that is fancy; but it seems to menow that all I ever knew or felt about Miss Pinshon in theyears that followed, was duly begun and betokened in those. First five minutes. She was a young-looking lady, younger-looking than she was. She had a dark, rich complexion, and aface that I suppose would have been called handsome; it wasnever handsome to me. Long black curls on each side of herface, and large black eyes, were the features that firststruck one; but I immediately decided that Miss Pinshon wasnot born a lady. I do not mean that I think blood and breedingare unseverable; or that half a dozen lady ancestors in adirect line secure the character to the seventh in descent;though they _do_ often secure the look of it; nevertheless, ladies are born who never know all their lives how to make acurtsey, and curtseys are made with infinite grace by thosewho have nothing of a lady beyond the trappings. I never sawMiss Pinshon do a rude or an awkward thing, that I remember;nor one which changed my first mind about her. She washandsomely dressed; but there again I felt the same want. MissPinshon's dresses made me think always of the mercer's counterand the dressmaker's shop. My mother's robes always seemedpart of her own self; and so in a certain true sense theywere. 

My aunt introduced me. Miss Pinshon studied me. Her firstremark was that I looked very young. My aunt excused that, onthe ground of my having been always a delicate child. MissPinshon observed further that the way I wore my hair producedpart of the effect. My aunt explained _that_ to be my father'sand mother's fancy; and agreed that she thought cropped headswere always ungraceful. If my hair were allowed to fall inringlets on my neck, I would look very different. Miss Pinshonnext inquired how much I knew? turning her great black eyesfrom me to aunt Gary. My aunt declared she could not tell;delicate health had also here interfered; and she appealed tome to say what knowledge I was possessed of. I could notanswer. I could not say. It seemed to me I had not learnedanything. Then Preston spoke for me. 

"Modesty is apt to be silent on its own merits, " he said. "Mycousin has learned the usual rudiments; and in addition tothose the art of driving. "

"Of _what?_ What did you say?" inquired my governess. 

"Of driving, ma'am. Daisy is an excellent whip, for her yearsand strength. "

Miss Pinshon turned to Preston's mother. My aunt confirmed andenlarged the statement, again throwing the blame on my fatherand mother. For herself, she always thought it very dangerousfor a little girl like me to go about the country in a pony-chaise all alone. Miss Pinshon's eyes could not be said toexpress anything, but to my fancy they concealed a good deal. She remarked that the roads were easy. 

"Oh, it was not here, " said my aunt; "it was at the North, where the roads are not like our pine forests. However, theroads were not dangerous there, that I know of; not foranybody but a child. But horses and carriages are alwaysdangerous. "

Miss Pinshon next applied herself to me. What did I know?"beside this whip accomplishment, " as she said. I was tongue-tied. It did not seem to me that I knew anything. At last Isaid so. Preston exclaimed. I looked at him to beg him to bestill; and I remember how he smiled at me. 

"You can read, I suppose?" my governess went on. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

"And write, I suppose?"

"I do not think you would say I know how to write, " Ianswered. "I cannot do it at all well; and it takes me a longtime. "

"Come back to the driving, Daisy, " said Preston. "That is onething you do know. And English history, I will bear witness. "

"What have you got there, Preston?" my aunt asked. 

"Some hoarhound drops, mamma. "

"You haven't a sore throat?" she asked eagerly. 

"No, ma'am — not just now, but I had yesterday; and I thoughtI would be provided. "

"You seem provided for a long time —" Miss Pinshon remarked. 

"Can't get anything up at Magnolia — except rice, " saidPreston, after making the lady a bow which did not promisegood fellowship. "You must take with you what you are likelyto want there. "

"You will not want all that, " said his mother. 

"No, ma'am, I hope not, " said Preston, looking at his packagedemurely. "Old uncle Lot, you know, always has a cough; and Ipurpose delighting him with some of my purchases. I will goand put them away. "

"Old uncle Lot!" my aunt repeated. "What uncle Lot? I did notknow you had been enough at Magnolia to get the servants'names. But I don't remember any uncle Lot. "

Preston turned to leave the room with his candy, and inturning gave me a look of such supreme fun — and mischief thatat another time I could hardly have helped laughing. But MissPinshon was asking me if I understood arithmetic?

"I think — I know very little about it, " I said hesitating. "Ican do a sum. "

"In what?"

"On the slate, ma'am. "

"Yes, but in what?"

"I don't know, ma'am — it is adding up the columns. "

"Oh, in _addition_, then. Do you know the multiplication anddivision tables?"

"No, ma'am. "

"Go and get off your things, and then come back to me; and Iwill have some more talk with you. "

I remember to this day how heavily my feet went up the stairs. I was not very strong yet in body, and now the strength seemedto have gone out of my heart. 

"I declare, " said Preston, who waited for me on the landing, "she falls into position easy! Does she think she is going totake _that_ tone with you?"

I made no answer. Preston followed me into my room. 

"I won't have it, little Daisy. Nobody shall be mistress atMagnolia but you. This woman shall not. See, Daisy — I amgoing to put these things in my trunk for you, until we getwhere you want them. That will be safe. "

I thanked him. 

"What are you going to do now?"

"I am going downstairs, as soon as I am ready. "

"Do you expect to be under all the commands this HighMightiness may think proper to lay upon you?"

I begged him to be still and leave me. 

"She will turn you into stone!" he exclaimed. "She is aregular Gorgon, with those heavy eyes of hers. I never sawsuch eyes. I believe she would petrify me if I had to bearthem. Don't you give Medusa one of those sweet almonds, Daisy, — not one, do you hear?"

I heard too well. I faced round upon him and begged him toremember that it was my _mother_ I must obey in Miss Pinshon'sorders; and said that he must not talk to me. WhereuponPreston threw down his candies, and pulled my cloak out of myunsteady hands, and locked his arms about me; kissing me andlamenting over me that it was "too bad. " I tried to keep myself-command; but the end was a great burst of tears; and Iwent down to Miss Pinshon with red eyes and at a disadvantage. I think Preston was pleased. 

I had need of all my quiet and self-command. My governessstretched out her hand, drew me to her side and kissed me;then with the other hand went on to arrange the ruffle roundmy neck, stroking it and pulling it into order, and eventaking out a little bit of a pin I wore, and putting it inagain to suit herself. It annoyed me excessively. I knew allwas right about my ruffle and pin; I never left themcarelessly arranged; no fingers but mamma's had ever dared tomeddle with them before. But Miss Pinshon arranged the ruffleand the pin, and still holding me, looked in my face withthose eyes of hers. I began to feel that they were "heavy. "They did not waver. They did not seem to wink, like othereyes. They bore down upon my face with a steady power, thatwas not bright but ponderous. Her first question was, whetherI was a good girl?

I could not tell how to answer. My aunt answered for me, thatshe believed Daisy meant to be a good girl, though she likedto have her own way. 

Miss Pinshon ordered me to bring up a chair and sit down; andthen asked if I knew anything about mathematics; told me itwas the science of quantity; remarked to my aunt that it wasthe very best study for teaching children to think, and thatshe always gave them a great deal of it in the first years oftheir pupilage. "It puts the mind in order, " the black-eyedlady went on; "and other things come so easily after it. Daisy, do you know what I mean by 'quantity'?"

I knew what _I _ meant by quantity; but whether the Englishlanguage had anything in common for Miss Pinshon and me, I hadgreat doubts. I hesitated. 

"I always teach my little girls to answer promptly when theyare asked anything. I notice that you do not answer promptly. You can always tell whether you know a thing or whether you donot. "

I was not so sure of that. Miss Pinshon desired me now torepeat the multiplication table. Here at least there wascertainty. I had never learned it. 

"It appears to me, " said my governess, "you have done verylittle with the first ten years of your life. It gives you agreat deal to do for the next ten. "

"Health has prevented her applying to her studies, " said myaunt. 

"The want of health. Yes, I suppose so. I hope Daisy will bevery well now, for we must make up for lost time. "

"I do not suppose so much time need have been lost, " said myaunt; "but parents are easily alarmed, you know; they think ofnothing but one thing. "

So now there was nobody about me who would be easily alarmed. I took the full force of that. 

"Of course, " said Miss Pinshon, "I shall have a careful regardto her health. Nothing can be done without that. I shall takeher out regularly to walk with me, and see that she does notexpose herself in any way. Study is no hindrance to health;learning has no malevolent effect upon the body. I thinkpeople often get sick for want of something to think of. "

How sure I felt, as I went up to bed that night, that no sucheasy cause of sickness would be mine for long years to come!

CHAPTER II. 

MY HOME. 

The next day we were to go to Magnolia. It was a better daythan I expected. Preston kept me with him, away from aunt Garyand my governess; who seemed to have a very comfortable timetogether. Magnolia lay some miles inland, up a small stream orinlet called the Sands river; the banks of which were studdedwith gentlemen's houses. The houses were at large distancesfrom one another, miles of plantation often lying between. Wewent by a small steamer which plied up and down the river; itpaddled along slowly, made a good many landings, and kept uson board thus a great part of the day. 

At last Preston pointed out to me a little wooden pier orjetty ahead, which he said was my landing; and the steamersoon drew up to it. I could see only a broken bank, fifteenfeet high, stretching all along the shore. However, a fewsteps brought us to a receding level bit of ground, wherethere was a break in the bank; the shore fell in a little, anda wooded dell sloped back from the river. A carriage andservants were waiting here. 

Preston and I had arranged that we would walk up and let theladies ride. But as soon as they had taken their places Iheard myself called. We declared our purpose, Preston and I;but Miss Pinshon said the ground was damp and she preferred Ishould ride; and ordered me in. I obeyed, bitterlydisappointed; so much disappointed that I had the utmosttrouble not to let it be seen. For a little while I did notknow what we were passing. Then curiosity recovered itself. The carriage was slowly making its way up a rough road. Oneach side the wooded banks of the dell shut us in; and thesebanks seemed to slope upward as well as the road, for thoughwe mounted and mounted, the sides of the dell grew no lower. After a little, then, the hollow of the dell began to growwider, and its sides softly shelving down; and through thetrees on our left we could see a house, standing high aboveus, but on ground which sloped towards the dell, which roseand widened and spread out to meet it. This sloping ground wasstudded with magnificent live oaks; each holding its place inindependent majesty, making no interference with the growth ofthe rest. Some of these trees had a girth that half a dozenmen with their arms outstretched in a circle could not span;they were green in spite of the winter; branching low, andspreading into stately, beautiful heads of verdure, while greywreaths of moss hung drooping from some of them. The house wasseen not very distinctly among these trees; it showed low, andin a long extent of building. I have never seen a prettierapproach to a house than that at Magnolia. My heart was fullof the beauty, this first time. 

"This is Magnolia, Daisy, " said my aunt. "This is your house. "

"It appears a fine place, " said Miss Pinshon. 

"It is one of the finest on the river. This is your property, Daisy. "

"It is papa's, " I answered. 

"Well, — it belongs to your mother, and so you may say itbelongs to your father; but it is yours for all that. Thearrangement was, as I know, " my aunt went on, addressing MissPinshon, — "the arrangement in the marriage settlements was, that the sons should have the father's property, and thedaughters the mother's. There is one son and one daughter; sothey will each have enough. "

"But it is mamma's and papa's, " I pleaded. 

"Oh, well — it will be yours. That is what I mean. Ransom willhave Melbourne and the Virginia estates; and Magnolia isyours. You ought to have a pretty good education. "

I was so astonished at this way of looking at things, thatagain I lost part of what was before me. The carriage wentgently along, passing the house, and coming up gradually tothe same level; then making a turn we drove at a better paceback under some of those great evergreen oaks, till we drew upat the house door. This was at a corner of the building, whichstretched in a long, low line towards the river. A verandahskirted all that long front. As soon as I was out of thecarriage I ran to the furthest end. I found the verandahturned the corner; the lawn too. All along the front, itsloped to the dell; at the end of the house, it sloped moregently and to greater distance down to the banks of the river. I could not see the river itself. The view of the dell at myleft hand was lovely. A little stream which ran in the bottomhad been coaxed to form a clear pool in an open spot, wherethe sunlight fell upon it, surrounded by a soft wilderness oftrees and climbers. Sweet branches of jessamine waved there intheir season; and a beautiful magnolia had been planted orcherished there, and carefully kept in view of the housewindows. But the wide lawns, on one side and on the other, grew nothing but the oaks; the gentle slope was a playgroundfor sunshine and shadow, as I first saw it; for then theshadows of the oaks were lengthening over the grass, and thewaving grey wreaths of moss served sometimes as a foil, sometimes as an her, to the sunbeams. I stood in a trance ofjoy and sorrow; they were fighting so hard for the mastery;till I knew that my aunt and Miss Pinshon had come up behindme. 

"This is a proud place!" my governess remarked. 

I believe I looked at her. My aunt laughed; said she must notteach me that; and led the way back to the entrance of thehouse. All along the verandah I noticed that the green blindedlong windows made other entrances for whoever chose them. 

The door was open for us already, and within was a row of darkfaces of men and women, and a show of white teeth that lookedlike a welcome. I wondered aunt Gary did not say more toanswer the welcome; she only dropped a few careless words asshe went in, and asked if dinner was ready. I looked from oneto another of the strange faces and gleaming rows of teeth. These were my mother's servants; that was something that camenear to my heart. I heard inquiries after "Mis' Felissy, " and"Mass' Randolph, " and then the question, "Mis' 'Lizy, is thislittle missis?" It was asked by an old, respectable-looking, grey-haired negress. I did not hear my aunt's answer; but Istopped and turned to the woman and laid my little hand in herwithered palm. I don't know what there was in that minute;only I know that whereas I touched one hand, I touched a greatmany hearts. Then and there began my good understanding withall the coloured people on my mother's estate of Magnolia. There was a general outburst of satisfaction and welcome. Someof the voices blessed me; more than one remarked that I was"like Mass' Randolph;" and I went into the parlour with a warmspot in my heart, which had been very cold. 

I was oddly at home at once. The room indeed was a room I hadnever seen before; yet according to the mystery of suchthings, the inanimate surroundings bore the mark of the tastesand habits I had grown up among all my life. A great splendidfire was blazing in the chimney; a rich carpet was on thefloor; the furniture was luxurious though not showy, and therewas plenty of it. So there was a plenty of works of art, inhome and foreign manufacture. Comfort, elegance, prettiness, all around; and through the clear, glass of the long windowsthe evergreen oaks on the lawn showed like guardians of theplace. I stood at one of them, with the pressure of that joyand sorrow filling my childish heart. 

My aunt presently called me from the window, and bade me letMargaret take off my things. I got leave to go up stairs withMargaret and take them off there. So I ran up the low easyflight of stairs — they were wooden and uncarpeted — to amatted gallery lit from the roof, with here and there a windowin a recess looking upon the lawn. Many rooms opened into thisgallery. I went from one to another. Here were great woodfires burning too; here were snowy white beds, with lightmuslin hangings; and dark cabinets and wardrobes; and mats onthe floors, with thick carpets and rugs laid down here andthere. And on one side and on the other side the windowslooked out upon the wide lawn, with its giant oaks hung withgrey wreaths of moss. My heart grew sore straitened. It was ahard evening, that first evening at Magnolia; with theloveliness and the brightness, the warm attraction, and thebitter cold sense of loneliness. I longed to throw myself downand cry. What I did, was to stand by one of the windows andfight myself not to let the tears come. If _they_ were here, itwould be so happy! If they were here — oh, if they were here!

I believe the girl spoke to me without my hearing her. Butthen came somebody whom I was obliged to hear, shouting"Daisy" along the gallery. I faced him with a great effort. Hewanted to know what I was doing, and how I liked it, and wheremy room was. 

"Not found it yet?" said Preston. "Is this it? Whose room isthis, hey? — you somebody?"

"Maggie, massa, " said the girl, dropping a curtsey. 

"Maggie, where is your mistress's room?"

"This is Mis' 'Liza's room, sir. "

"Nonsense! Mis' 'Liza is only here on a visit — _this_ is yourmistress. Where is her room, hey?"

"Oh, stop, Preston!" I begged him. "I am not mistress. "

"Yes, you are. I'll roast anybody who says you ain't. Comealong, and you shall choose which room you will have; and ifit isn't ready they will get it ready. Come!"

I made him understand my choice might depend on where otherpeople's rooms were; and sent him off. Then I sent the girlaway — she was a pleasant-faced mulatto, very eager to help me— and left to myself I hurriedly turned the key in the lock. I_must_ have some minutes to myself, if I was to bear the burdenof that afternoon; and I knelt down with as heavy a heart, almost, as I ever knew. In all my life I had never felt socastaway and desolate. When my father and mother first wentfrom me, I was at least among the places where they had been;June was with me still, and I knew not Miss Pinshon. Thejourney had had its excitements and its interest. Now I wasalone; for June had decided, with tears and woeful looks, thatshe would not come to Magnolia; and Preston would be soon onhis way back to college. I knew of only one comfort in theworld; that wonderful, "Lo, I am with you. " Does anybody knowwhat that means, who has not made it the single plank bridgeover an abyss?

No one found out that anything was the matter with me, exceptPreston. His caresses were dangerous to my composure. I kepthim off; and he ate his dinner with a thundercloud face whichforetold war with all governesses. For me, it was hard workenough to maintain my quiet; everything made it hard. Each newroom, every arrangement of furniture, every table appointment, though certainly not what I had seen before, yet seemed solike home that I was constantly missing what would have madeit home indeed. It was the shell without the kernel. The soupladle seemed to be by mistake in the wrong hands; Prestonseemed to have no business with my father's carving knife andfork; the sense of desolation pressed upon me everywhere. 

After dinner, the ladies went up stairs to choose their rooms, and Miss Pinshon avowed that she wished to have mine withinhers; it would be proper and convenient, she said. Aunt Garymade no objection; but there was some difficulty, because allthe rooms had independent openings into the gallery. MissPinshon hesitated a moment between one of two that opened intoeach other and another that was pleasanter and larger butwould give her less facility for overlooking my affairs. Forone moment I drew a breath of hope; and then my hope wasquashed. Miss Pinshon chose one of the two that opened intoeach other; and my only comfort was in the fact that my ownroom had two doors and I was not obliged to go through MissPinshon's to get to it. Just as this business was settled, Preston called me out into the gallery and asked me to go fora walk. I questioned with myself a second, whether I shouldask leave; but I had an inward assurance that to ask leavewould be not to go. I felt I must go. I ran back to the roomwhere my things lay, and in two minutes I was out of thehouse. 

My first introduction to Magnolia! How well I remember everyminute and every foot of the way. It was delicious, theinstant I stepped out among the oaks and into the sunshine. Freedom was there, at all events. 

"Now Daisy, we'll go to the stables, " Preston said, "and seeif there is anything fit for you. I am afraid there isn't;though Edwards told me he thought there was. "

"Who is Edwards?" I asked, as we sped joyfully away throughthe oaks, across shade and sunshine. 

"Oh, he is the overseer. "

"What is an overseer?"

"What is an overseer? — why, he is the man that looks afterthings. "

"What things?" I asked. 

"All the things — everything, Daisy; all the affairs of theplantation; the rice-fields and the cotton-fields, and thepeople, and everything. "

"Where are the stables? and where are we going?"

"Here — just here — a little way off. They are just in a dellover here — the other side of the house, where the quartersare. "

"Quarters"? I repeated. 

"Yes. Oh, you don't know anything down here, but you'll learn. The stables and quarters are in this dell we are coming to;nicely out of sight. Magnolia is one of the prettiest placeson the river. "

We had passed through the grove of oaks on the further side ofthe house, and then found the beginning of a dell which, likethe one by which we had come up a few hours before, slopedgently down to the river. In its course it widened out to alittle low sheltered open ground, where a number of buildingsstood. 

"So the house is between two dells, " I said. 

"Yes; and on that height up there, beyond the quarters, is thecemetery; and from there you can see a great many fields andthe river and have a beautiful view. And there are capitalrides all about the place, Daisy. "

When we came to the stables, Preston sent a boy in search of"Darius. " Darius, he told me, was the coachman, and chief incharge of the stable department. Darius came presently. He wasa grey-headed, fine-looking, most respectable black man. Hehad driven my mother and my mother's mother; and being atrusted and important man on the place, and for other reasons, he had a manner and bearing that were a model of dignifiedpropriety. Very grave "uncle Darry" was; stately and almostcourtly in his respectful courtesy; but he gave me a pleasantsmile when Preston presented him. 

"We's happy to see Miss Daisy at her own home. Hope de Lordbress her. "

My heart warmed at these words like the ice-bound earth in aspring day. They were not carelessly spoken, nor was thewelcome. My feet trod the greensward more firmly. Then allother thoughts were for the moment put to flight by Preston'scalling for the pony and asking Darius what he thought of him, and Darry's answer. 

"Very far, massa; very far. Him no good for not'ing. "

While I pondered what this judgment might amount to, the ponywas brought out. He was larger than Loupe, and had not Loupe'speculiar symmetry of mane and tail; he was a fat dumpy littlefellow, sleek and short, dapple grey, with a good long tailand a mild eye. Preston declared he had no shape at all andwas a poor concern of a pony; but to my eyes he was beautiful. He took one or two sugarplums from my hand with as muchamenity as if we had been old acquaintances. Then a boy wasput on him, who rode him up and down with a halter. 

"He'll do, Darius, " said Preston. 

"For little missis? Just big enough, massa. Got no tricks atall, only he no like work. Not much spring in him. "

"Daisy must take the whip, then. Come and let us go look atsome of the country where you will ride. Are you tired, Daisy?"

"Oh, no, " I said. "But wait a minute, Preston. Who lives inall those houses?"

"The people. The hands. They are away in the fields at worknow. "

"Does Darius live there?"

"Of course. They all live here. "

"I should like to go nearer, and see the houses. "

"Daisy, it is nothing on earth to see. They are all justalike; and you see them from here. "

"I want to look in, " — I said, moving down the slope. 

"Daisy, " said Preston, you are just as fond of having your ownway as —"

"As what? I do not think I am, Preston. "

"I suppose nobody thinks he is, " grumbled Preston, followingme, — "except the fellows who can't get it. "

I had by this time almost forgotten Miss Pinshon. I had almostcome to think that Magnolia might be a pleasant place. In theintervals, when the pony was out of sight, I had improved myknowledge of the old coachman; and every look added to myliking. There was something I could not read that more andmore drew me to him. A simplicity in his good manners, aplacid expression in his gravity, a staid reserve in hishumility, were all there; and more yet. Also the scene in thedell was charming to me. The ground about the negro cottageswas kept neat; they were neatly built of stone and stood roundthe sides of a quadrangle; while on each side and below thewooded slopes of ground closed in the picture. Sunlight wasstreaming through and brightening up the cottages and restingon uncle Darry's swarth face. Down through the sunlight I wentto the cottages. The first door stood open, and I looked in. At the next I was about to knock, but Preston pushed open thedoor for me; and so he did for a third and a fourth. Nobodywas in them. I was a good deal disappointed. They were empty, bare, dirty, and seemed to me very forlorn. What a set ofpeople my mother's hands must be, I thought. Presently I cameupon a ring of girls, a little larger than I was, huddledtogether behind one of the cottages. There was no mannersabout them. They were giggling and grinning, hopping on onefoot, and going into other awkward antics; not the less thatmost of them had their arms filled with little black babies. Ihad got enough for that day, and turning about left the dellwith Preston. 

At the head of the dell, Preston led off in a new direction, along a wide avenue that ran through the woods. Perfectlylevel and smooth, with the woods closing in on both sides andmaking long vistas through their boles and under their boughs. By and by we took another path that led off from this one, wide enough for two horses to go abreast. The pine trees weresweet overhead and on each hand, making the light soft and theair fragrant. Preston and I wandered on in delightful roaming;leaving the house and all that it contained at an unremembereddistance. Suddenly we came out upon a cleared field. It wasmany acres large; in the distance a number of people were atwork. We turned back again. 

"Preston, " I said, after a silence of a few minutes, — "thereseemed to be no women in those cottages. I did not see any. "

"I suppose not, " said Preston; "because there were not any tosee. "

"But had all those little babies no mothers?"

"Yes, of course, Daisy; but they were in the field. "

"The mothers of those little babies?"

"Yes. What about it? Look here — are you getting tired?"

I said no; and he put his arm round me fondly, so as to holdme up a little; and we wandered gently on, back to the avenue, then down its smooth course further yet from the house, thenoff by another wood path through the pines on the other side. This was a narrower path, amidst sweeping pine branches andhanging creepers, some of them prickly, which threw themselvesall across the way. It was not easy getting along. I remarkedthat nobody seemed to come there much. 

"I never came here myself, " said Preston, "but I know it mustlead out upon the river somewhere, and that's what I am after. — Hollo! we are coming to something. There is something whitethrough the trees. I declare, I believe —"

Preston had been out in his reckoning, and a second time hadbrought me where he did not wish to bring me. We camepresently to an open place, or rather a place where the pinesstood a little apart; and there in the midst was a smallenclosure. A low brick wall surrounded a square bit of ground, with an iron gate in one side of the square; within, thegrassy plot was spotted with the white marble of tombstones. There were large and small. Overhead, the great pine treesstood and waved their long branches gently in the wind. Theplace was lonely and lovely. We had come, as Preston guessed, to the river, and the shore was here high; so that we lookeddown upon the dark little stream far below us. The sunlight, getting low by this time, hardly touched it; but streamedthrough the pine trees and over the grass and gilded the whitemarble with gold. 

"I did not mean to bring you here, " said Preston. "I did notknow I was bringing you here. Come, Daisy — we'll go and tryagain. "

"Oh, stop!" I said — "I like it. I want to look at it. "

"It is the cemetery, " said Preston. "That tall column is themonument of our great — no, of our great-great-grandfather;and this brown one is for mamma's father. Come, Daisy! —"

"Wait a little, " I said. "Whose is that with the vase on top?"

"Vase?" said Preston — "it's an urn. It is an urn, Daisy. People do not put vases on tombstones. "

I asked what the difference was. 

"The difference? Oh, Daisy, Daisy! Why vases are to putflowers in; and urns — I'll tell you, Daisy, — I believe it isbecause the Romans used to burn the bodies of their friendsand gather up the ashes and keep them in a funeral urn. So anurn comes to be appropriate to a tombstone. "

"I do not see how, " I said. 

"Why, because an urn comes to be an emblem of mortality andall that. Come, Daisy; let us go. "

"I think a vase of flowers would be a great deal nicer, " Isaid. "We do not keep the ashes of our friends. "

"We don't put signs of joy over their graves either, " saidPreston. 

"I should think we might, " I said, meditatively. "When peoplehave gone to Jesus — they must be very glad!"

Preston burst out with an expression of hope that Miss Pinshonwould "do something" for me; and again would have led me away;but I was not ready to go. My eye, roving beyond the whitemarble and the low brick wall, had caught what seemed to be anumber of meaner monuments, scattered among the pine trees andspreading down the slope of the ground on the further side, where it fell off towards another dell. In one place a bit ofboard was set up; further on, a cross; then I saw a great manybits of board and crosses; some more and some less carefullymade; and still as my eye roved about over the ground theyseemed to start up to view in every direction; too low and toohumble and too near the colour of the fallen pine leaves tomake much show unless they were looked for. I asked what theyall were?

"Those? Oh, those are for the people, you know. "

"The people?" — I repeated. 

"Yes, the people — the hands. "

"There are a great many of them!" I remarked. 

"Of course, " said Preston. "You see, Daisy, there have been Idon't know how many hundreds of hands here for a great manyyears, ever since mother's grandfather's time. "

"I should think, " said I, looking at the little board slipsand crosses among the pine cones on the ground, — "I shouldthink they would like to have something nicer to put up overtheir graves. "

"Nicer? those are good enough, " said Preston. "Good enough forthem. "

"I should think they would like to have something better, " Isaid. "Poor people at the North have nicer monuments, I know. I never saw such monuments in my life. "

"Poor people!" cried Preston. "Why, these are the _hands_, Daisy, — the coloured people. What do they want of monuments?"

"Don't they care?" said I, wondering. 

"Who cares if they care? I don't know whether they care, " saidPreston, quite out of patience with me, I thought. 

"Only, if they cared, I should think they would have somethingnicer, " I said. "Where do they all go to church, Preston?"

"Who?" said Preston. 

"These people?"

"What people? The families along the river, do you mean?"

"No, no, " said I; "I mean _our_ people — these people; thehands. You say there are hundreds of them. Where do they go tochurch?"

I faced Preston now in my eagerness; for the little boardcrosses and the forlorn look of the whole burying ground onthe side of the hill had given me a strange feeling. 

"Where do they go to church, Preston?"

"Nowhere, I reckon. "

I was shocked, and Preston was impatient. How should he know, he said; he did not live at Magnolia. And he carried me off. We went back to the avenue and slowly bent our steps againtowards the house; slowly, for I was tired, and we both, Ithink, were busy with our thoughts. Presently I saw a man, anegro, come into the avenue a little before us with a bundleof tools on his back. He went as slowly as we, with anindescribable, purposeless gait. His figure had the same looktoo, from his lop-sided old white hat to every fold of hisclothing, which seemed to hang about him just as if it wouldas lieve be off as on. I begged Preston to hail him and askhim the question about church going, which sorely troubled me. Preston was unwilling and resisted. 

"What do you want me to do that for, Daisy?"

"Because aunt Gary told Miss Pinshon that we have to drive sixmiles to go to church. Do ask him where they go!"

"They don't go _anywhere_, Daisy, " said Preston impatiently;"they don't care a straw about it, either. All the church theycare about is when they get together in somebody's house andmake a great muss. "

"Make a muss!" said I. 

"Yes; a regular muss; shouting and crying and having what theycall a good time. That's what some of them do; but I'll wagerif I were to ask him about going to church, this fellow herewould not know what I mean. "

This did by no means quiet me. I insisted that Preston shouldstop the man; and at last he did. I The fellow turned and cameback towards us, ducking his old white hat. His face was justlike the rest of him: there was no expression in it but anexpression of limp submissiveness. 

"Sambo, your mistress wants to speak to you. "

"Yes, massa. I's George, massa. "

"George, " said I, "I want to know where you go to church?"

"Yes, missis. What missis want to know?"

"Where do you and all the rest go to church?"

"Reckon don't go nowhar, missis. "

"Don't you ever go to church?"

"Church for white folks, missis; bery far; long ways to ride. "

"But you and the rest of the people — don't you go anywhere tochurch? to hear preaching?"

"Reckon not, missis. De preachin's don't come dis way, likely. "

"Can you read the Bible, George?"

"Dunno read, missis. Never had no larnin'. "

"Then don't you know anything about what is in the Bible?don't you know about Jesus?"

"Reckon don't know not'ing, missis. "

"About Jesus?" said I again. 

" 'Clar, missis, dis nigger don't know not'ing, but de rice andde corn. Missis talk to Darry; he most knowin' nigger onplantation; knows a heap. "

"There!" exclaimed Preston — "that will do. You go off to yoursupper, George — and Daisy, you had better come on if you wantanything pleasant at home. What on earth have you got now bythat? What is the use? Of course they do not know anything;and why should they? They have no time and no use for it. "

"They have time on Sundays —" I said. 

"Time to sleep. That is what they do. That is the only thing anegro cares about, to go to sleep in the sun. It's allnonsense, Daisy. "

"They would care about something else, I dare say, " Ianswered, "if they could get it. "

"Well, they can't get it. Now, Daisy, I want you to let thesefellows alone. You have nothing to do with them, and you didnot come to Magnolia for such work. You have nothing on earthto do with them. "

I had my own thoughts on the subject, but Preston was not asympathising hearer. I said no more. The evergreen oaks aboutthe house came presently in sight; then the low verandah thatran round three sides of it; then we came to the door, and mywalk was over. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE MULTIPLICATION TABLE. 

My life at Magnolia might be said to begin when I came downstairs that evening. My aunt and Miss Pinshon were sitting inthe parlour, in the light of a glorious fire of light wood andoak sticks. Miss Pinshon called me to her at once; inquiredwhere I had been; informed me I must not for the future takesuch diversion without her leave first asked and obtained; andthen put me to reading aloud, that she might see how well Icould do it. She gave me a philosophical article in a magazinefor my proof piece; it was full of long words that I did notknow and about matters that I did not understand. I readmechanically, of course; trying with all my might to speak thelong words right, that there might be no room for correction;but Miss Pinshon's voice interrupted me again and again. Ifelt cast away — in a foreign land; further and further fromthe home feeling every minute; and it seemed besides as if theclimate had some power of petrifaction. I could not keepMedusa out of my head. It was a relief at last when the teawas brought in. Miss Pinshon took the magazine out of my hand. 

"She has a good voice, but she wants expression, " was herremark. 

"I could not understand what she was reading, " said my auntGary. 

"Nor anybody else, " said Preston. "How are you going to giveexpression, when there is nothing to express?"

"That is where you feel the difference between a good readerand one who is not trained, " said my governess. "I presumeDaisy has never been trained. "

"No, not in anything, " said my aunt. "I dare say she wants agood deal of it. "

"We will try —" said Miss Pinshon. 

It all comes back to me as I write, that beginning of myMagnolia life. I remember how dazed and disheartened I sat atthe tea-table, yet letting nobody see it; how Preston madeviolent efforts to change the character of the evening; anddid keep up a stir that at another time would have amused me. And when I was dismissed to bed, Preston came after me to theupper gallery and almost broke up my power of keeping quiet. He gathered me in his arms, kissed me and lamented over me, and denounced ferocious threats against "Medusa;" while I invain tried to stop him. He would not be sent away, till he hadcome into my room and seen that the fire was burning and theroom warm, and Margaret ready for me. 

With Margaret there was also an old coloured woman, dark andwrinkled, my faithful old friend Mammy Theresa; but indeed Icould scarcely see her just then, for my eyes were full of bigtears when Preston left me; and I had to stand still beforethe fire for some minutes before I could fight down the freshtears that were welling up and let those which veiled myeyesight scatter away. I was conscious how silently the twowomen waited upon me. I had a sense even then of the sympathythey were giving. I knew they served me with a respect whichwould have done for an Eastern princess; but I said nothinghardly, nor they, that night. 

If the tears came when I was alone, so did sleep too at last;and I waked up the next morning a little revived. It was acool morning! and my eyes opened to see Margaret on her kneesmaking my fire. Two good oak sticks were on the fire dogs, anda heap of light wood on the floor. I watched her piling andpreparing, and then kindling the wood with a splinter of lightwood which she lit in the candle. It was all very strange tome. The bare painted and varnished floor; the rugs laid downhere and there; the old cupboards in the wall; the unwontedfurniture. It did not feel like home. I lay still, until thefire blazed up and Margaret rose to her feet, and seeing myeyes open dropped her curtsey. 

"Please, missis, may I be Miss Daisy's girl?"

"I will ask aunt Gary, " I answered; a good deal surprised. 

"Miss Daisy is the mistress. We all belong to Miss Daisy. Itwill be as she say. "

I thought to myself that very little was going to be "as Isaid. " I got out of bed, feeling terribly slim-hearted, andstood in my night-gown before the fire, trying to let theblaze warm me. Margaret did her duties with a zeal of devotionthat reminded me of my old June. 

"I will ask aunt Gary, " I said; "and I think she will let youbuild my fire, Margaret. "

"Thank'e, ma'am. First rate fires, I'll make, Miss Daisy. We'se all so glad Miss Daisy come to Magnoly. "

Were they? I thought, and what did she mean by their all"belonging to me"? I was not accustomed to quite so muchdeference. However, I improved my opportunity by askingMargaret my question of the day before about church. The girlhalf laughed. 

"Aint any church big enough to hold all de people, " she said. "Guess we coloured folks has to go widout. "

"But where _is_ the church?" I said. 

"Aint none, Miss Daisy. People enough to make a church fullall himselves. "

"And don't you want to go?"

"Reckon it's o' no consequence, missis. It's a right smartchance of a way to Bo'mbroke, where de white folks' church is. Guess they don't have none for poor folks nor niggers in deseparts. "

"But Jesus died for poor people, " I said, turning round uponmy attendant. She met me with a gaze I did not understand, andsaid nothing. Margaret was not like my old June. She was aclear mulatto, with a fresh colour and rather a handsome face;and her eyes, unlike June's little anxious, restless, almondshaped eyes, were liquid and full. She went on care- fullywith the toilet duties which busied her; and I was puzzled. 

"Did you never hear of Jesus?" I said presently. "Don't youknow that He loves poor people?"

"Reckon He loves rich people de best, Miss Daisy, " the girlsaid, in a dry tone. 

I faced about to deny this, and to explain how the Lord had aspecial love and care for the poor. I saw that my hearer didnot believe me. "She had heerd so, " she said. 

The dressing-bell sounded long and loud, and I was obliged tolet Margaret go on with my dressing; but in the midst of mypuzzled state of mind, I felt childishly sure of the power ofthat truth, of the Lord's love, to break down any hardness andovercome any coldness. Yet, "how shall they hear without apreacher?" and I had so little chance to speak. 

"Then, Margaret, " said I at last, "is there no place where youcan go to hear about the things in the Bible?"

"No, missis; I never goes. "

"And does not anybody, except Darry when he goes with thecarriage?"

"Can't, Miss Daisy; it's miles and miles; and no place forniggers neither. "

"Can you read the Bible, Margaret?"

"Guess not, missis; we's too stupid; aint good for colouredfolks to read. "

"Does _nobody_, among all the people, read the Bible?" said I, once more stopping Margaret in my dismay. 

"Uncle Darry — he does, " said the girl; "and he — do 'spounsome; but I don't make no count of his 'spoundations. "

I did not know quite what she meant; but I had no time foranything more. I let her go, locked my door and kneeled down;with the burden on my heart of this new revelation; that therewere hundreds of people under the care of my father andmother, who were living without church and without Bible, indesperate ignorance of everything worth knowing. If I papa hadonly been at Magnolia with me! I thought I could havepersuaded him to build a church and let somebody come andteach the people. But now — what could I do? And I asked theLord, what could I do? but I did not see the answer. 

Feeling the question on my two shoulders, I went down stairs. To my astonishment, I found the family all gathered in solemnorder; the house servants at one end of the room, my aunt, Miss Pinshon and Preston at the other, and before my aunt alittle table with books. I got a seat as soon as I could, forit was plain that something was waiting for me. Then my auntopened the Bible and read a chapter, and followed it with aprayer read out of another book. I was greatly amazed at thewhole proceeding. No such ceremony was ever gone through atMelbourne; and certainly nothing had ever given me the notionthat my aunt Gary was any more fond of sacred things than therest of the family. 

"An excellent plan, " said Miss Pinshon, when we had risen fromour knees and the servants had filed off. 

"Yes, " my aunt said, somewhat as if it needed an apology; —"it was the custom in my father's and grandfather's time; andwe always keep it up. I think old customs always should bekept up. "

"And do you have the same sort of thing on Sundays, for theout-of-door hands?"

"What?" said my aunt. It was somewhat more abrupt than polite;but she probably felt that Miss Pinshon was a governess. 

"There were only the house servants gathered this morning. "

"Of course; part of them. "

"Have you any similar system of teaching for those who areoutside? I think you told me they have no church to go to. "

"I should like to know what "system" you would adopt, " said myaunt, "to reach seven hundred people. "

"A church and a minister would not be a bad thing. "

"Or we might all turn missionaries, " said Preston; "and goamong them with bags of Bibles round our necks. We might allturn missionaries. "

"Colporteurs, " said Miss Pinshon. 

Then I said in my heart, "I will be one. " But I went on eatingmy breakfast and did not look at anybody; only I listened withall my might. 

"I don't know about that" said my aunt. "I doubt whether achurch and a minister would be beneficial. "

"Then you have a nation of heathen at your doors, " said MissPinshon. 

"I don't know but they are just as well off, " said my aunt. "Idoubt if more light would do them any good. They would notunderstand it. "

"They must be very dark, if they could not understand light, "said my governess. 

"Just as people that are very light cannot understanddarkness, " said Preston. 

"I think so, " my aunt went on. "Our neighbour Colonel Joram, down below here at Crofts, will not allow such a thing aspreaching or teaching on his plantation. He says it is bad forthem. We always allowed it; but I don't know. "

"Colonel Joram is a heathen himself, you know, mother, " saidPreston. "Don't hold _him_ up. "

"I will hold him up for a gentleman, and a very successfulplanter, " said Mrs. Gary. "No place is better worked ormanaged than Crofts. If the estate of Magnolia were worked andkept as well, it would be worth half as much again as it everhas been. But there is the difference of the master's eye. Mybrother-in-law never could be induced to settle at Magnolia, nor at his own estates either. He likes it better in the coldNorth. "

Miss Pinshon made no remark whatever in answer to thisstatement; and the rest of the talk at the breakfast-table wasabout rice. 

After breakfast my school life at Magnolia began. It seems asif all the threads of my life there were in a hurry to getinto my hand. Ah, I had a handful soon! But this was thefashion of my first day with my governess. — All the days werenot quite so bad; however it gave the key of them all. 

Miss Pinshon bade me come with her to the room she and my aunthad agreed should be the schoolroom. It was the book room ofthe house, though it had hardly books enough to be called alibrary. It had been the study or private room of mygrandfather; there was a leather-covered table with an oldbronze standish; some plain book-cases; a large escritoire; aterrestrial globe; a thermometer and barometer; and the restof the furniture was an abundance of chintz-covered chairs andlounges. These were very easy and pleasant for use; and longwindows opening on the verandah looked off among the evergreenoaks and their floating grey drapery; the light in the roomand the whole aspect of it was agreeable. If Miss Pinshon hadnot been there! But she was there, with a terrible air ofbusiness; setting one or two chairs in certain positions by awindow, and handling one or two books on the table. I stoodmeek and helpless, expectant. 

"Have you read any history, Daisy?"

I said no; then I said yes, I had; a little. 

"What?"

"A little of the history of England last summer. "

"Not of your own country?"

"No, ma'am. "

"And no ancient history?"

"No, ma'am. "

"You know nothing of the Division of the nations, of course?"

I answered, nothing. I had no idea what she meant; except thatEngland, and America, and France, were different, and ofcourse divided. Of Peleg the son of Eber and the brother ofJoktan, I then knew nothing. 

"And arithmetic is something you do not understand, " pursuedMiss Pinshon. "Come here and let me see how you can write. "

With trembling, stiff little fingers — I feel them yet — Iwrote some lines under my governess' eye. 

"Very unformed, " was her comment. "And now, Daisy, you may sitdown there in the window and study the multiplication table. See how much of it you can get this morning. "

Was it to be a morning's work? My heart was heavy as lead. Atthis hour, at Melbourne, my task would have been to get myflat hat and rush out among the beds of flowers; and a littlelater, to have up Loupe and go driving whither I would, amongthe meadows and cornfields. Ah, yes; and there was Molly whomight be taught, and Juanita who might be visited; and Dr. Sandford who might come like a pleasant gale of wind into themidst of whatever I was about. I did not stop to think of themnow, though a waft of the sunny air through the open windowbrought a violent rush of such images. I tried to shut themout of my head and gave myself wistfully to "three times oneis three; three times two is six. " Miss Pinshon helped me byclosing the window. I thought she might have let so muchsweetness as that come into the multiplication table. HoweverI studied its threes and fours steadily for some time dry;then my attention flagged. It was very uninteresting. I hadnever in all my life till then been obliged to study what gaveme no pleasure. My mind wandered, and then my eyes wandered, to where the sunlight lay so golden under the live oaks. Thewreaths of grey moss stirred gently with the wind. I longed tobe out there. Miss Pinshon's voice startled me. 

"Daisy, where are your thoughts?"

I hastily brought my eyes and wits home and answered, "Outupon the lawn, ma'am. "

"Do you find the multiplication table there?"

It was so needless to answer! I was mute. I would have come tothe rash conclusion that nature and mathematics had nothing todo with each other. 

"You must learn to command your attention, " my governess wenton. "You must not let it wander. That is the first lesson youhave to learn. I shall give you mathematics till you havelearnt it. You can do nothing without attention. "

I bent myself to the threes and fours again. But I was soonweary; my mind escaped; and without turning my eyes off mybook, it swept over the distance between Magnolia andMelbourne, and sat down by Molly Skelton to help her ingetting her letters. It was done and I was there. I could hearthe hesitating utterances; I could see the dull finger tracingits way along the lines. And then would come the reading _to_Molly, and the interested look of waiting attention, and oncein a while the strange softening of the poor hard face. Fromthere my mind went off to the people around me at Magnolia;were there some to be taught here perhaps? and could I get atthem? and was there no other way — could it be there was noother way but by my weak little voice — through which some ofthem were ever to learn about my dear Saviour? I had got veryfar from mathematics, and my book fell. I heard Miss Pinshon'svoice. 

"Daisy, come here. "

I obeyed, and came to the table, where my governess wasinstalled in the leather chair of my grandfather. She alwaysused it. 

"I should like to know what you are doing. "

"I was thinking —" I said. 

"Did I give you thinking to do?"

"No, ma'am; not of that kind. "

"What kind was it?"

"I was thinking, and remembering —"

"Pray, what were you remembering?"

"Things at home — and other things. "

"Things and things, " said Miss Pinshon. "That is not a veryelegant way of speaking. Let me hear how much you havelearned. "

I began. About all of the "threes" was on my tongue; the resthad got mixed up hopelessly with Molly Skelton and teachingBible reading. Miss Pinshon was not pleased. 

"You must learn attention, " she said. "I can do nothing withyou until you have succeeded in that. You _must_ attend. Now Ishall give you a motive for minding what you are about. Go andsit down again and study this table till you know the threesand the fours and the fives and the sixes, perfectly. Go andsit down. "

I sat down, and the life was all out of me. Tears in the firstplace had a great mind to come, and would put themselvesbetween me and the figures in the multiplication table. Igoverned them back after a while. But I could not study topurpose. I was tired and down-spirited; I had not energy leftto spring to my task and accomplish it. Over and over again Itried to put the changes of the numbers in my head; it seemedlike writing them in sand. My memory would not take hold ofthem; could not keep them; with all my trying I grew only moreand more stupefied and fagged, and less capable of doing whatI had to do. So dinner came, and Miss Pinshon said I might getmyself ready for dinner and after dinner come back again to mylesson. The lesson must be finished before anything else wasdone. 

I had no appetite. Preston was in a fume of vexation, partlyroused by my looks, partly by hearing that I was not yet free. He was enraged beyond prudent speaking, but Miss Pinshon nevertroubled herself about his words; and when the first andsecond courses were removed, told me I might go to my work. Preston called to me to stay and have some fruit; but I wenton to the study, not caring for fruit or for anything else. Ifelt very dull and miserable. Then I remembered that mygoverness probably did care for some fruit and would bedelayed a little while; and then I tried what is the bestpreparation for study or anything else. I got down on myknees, to ask that help which is as willingly given to a childin her troubles as to the general of an army. I prayed that Imight be patient and obedient and take disagreeable thingspleasantly and do my duty in the multiplication table. And abreath of rest came over my heart, and a sort of perfume ofremembered things which I had forgotten; and it quite changedthe multiplication table to think that God had given it to meto learn, and so that some good would certainly come oflearning it; at least the good of pleasing Him. As long as Idared I staid on my knees; then — I was strong for the fivesand sixes. 

But it was not quick work; and though my patience did not flagagain nor my attention fail, the afternoon was well on the waybefore I was dismissed. I had then permission to do what Iliked. Miss Pinshon said she would not go to walk that day; Imight follow my own pleasure. 

I must have been very tired; for it seemed to me there washardly any pleasure left to follow. I got my flat and wentout. The sun was westing; the shadows stretched among theevergreen oaks; the outer air was sweet. I had tried to findPreston first, in the house; but he was not to be found; andall alone I went out into the sunshine. It wooed me on. Sunshine and I were always at home together. Without knowingthat I wanted to go anywhere, some secret attraction drew mysteps towards the dell where I had seen Darry. I followed oneof several well beaten paths that led towards the quartersthrough the trees, and presently came out upon the stablesagain. All along the dell the sunshine poured. The ground waskept like a pleasure ground, it was so neat; the grass was asclean as the grass of a park; the little stone housesscattered away down towards the river, with shade trees amongthem, and oaks lining the sides of the dell. I thought surelyMagnolia was a lovely place! if only my father and mother hadbeen there. But then, seeing the many cottages, my trouble ofthe morning pressed upon me afresh. So many people, so manyhomes, and the light of the Bible not on them, nor in them?And, child as I was, and little as I knew, I knew the name ofChrist too unspeakably precious, for me to think without asore heart, that all these people were without what was thejewel of my life. — And they my mother's servants! my father'sdependents! What could I do?

The dell was alone in the yellow sunlight which poured overthe slope from the west; and I went musing on till getting tothe corner of the stables I saw Darry just round the cornergrooming a black horse. He was working energetically andhumming to himself as he worked a refrain which I learnedafterwards to know well. — "All I could make out was, I'm goinghome" — several times repeated. I came near before he saw me, and he started; then bid me good evening and "hoped I foundMagnolia a pleasant place. "

Since I have grown older I have read that wonderful story ofMrs. Stowe's _Uncle Tom_; he reminded me of Darry then, and nowI never think of the one without thinking of the other. ButDarry, having served a different class of people from UncleTom's first owners, had a more polished style of manners, which I should almost call courtly; and he was besides a manof higher natural parts, and somewhat more education. But muchcommerce in the Court which is above all earthly dignities, nodoubt had more to do with his peculiarities than any othercause. 

I asked him what he was singing about home? and where his homewas? He turned his face full on me, letting me see how graveand gentle his eye was, and at the same time there was awistful expression in it that I felt. "Home aint nowhereshere, missie, " he said. "I'm 'spectin' to go by and by. "

"Do you mean home up _there?_" said I, lifting my finger towardsthe sky. Darry fairly laughed. 

" 'Spect don't want no other home, missie. Heaven good enough. "

I stood watching him as he rubbed down the black horse, feeling surely that he and I would be friends. 

"Where is your home here, Darry?"

"I got a place down there, little missie — not fur. "

"When you have done that horse, will you show me your place? Iwant to see where you live. "

"Missie want to see Darry's house?" said he, showing his whiteteeth. "Missie shall see what she mind to. I allus keepsSaddler till the last, 'cause he's ontractable. ". 

The black horse was put in the stable, and I followed my blackgroom down among the lines of stone huts, to which the workingparties had not yet returned. Darry's house was one of thelowest in the dell, out of the quadrangle, and had a glimpseof the river. It stood alone, in a pretty place, but somethingabout it did not satisfy me. It looked square and bare. Thestone walls within were rough as the stone-layer had leftthem; one little four-paned window, or rather casement, stoodopen; and the air was sweet; for Darry kept his placescrupulously neat and clean. But there was not much to bekept. A low bedstead; a wooden chest; an odd table made of apiece of board on three legs; a shelf with some kitchen ware;that was all the furniture. On the odd table there lay aBible, that had, I saw, been turned over many a time. 

"Then you can read, uncle Darry, " I said, pitching on the onlything that pleased me. 

"De good Lord, He give me dat happiness, " the man answeredgravely. 

"And you love Jesus, Darry, " I said, feeling that we hadbetter come to an understanding as soon as possible. Hisanswer was an energetic —

"Bress de Lord! Do Miss Daisy love Him, den?"

I would have said yes; I did say yes, I believe; but I did notknow how or why, at this question there seemed a comingtogether of gladness and pain which took away my breath. Myhead dropped on Darry's little window-sill, and my tearsrushed forth, like the head of water behind a broken mill-dam. Darry was startled and greatly concerned. He wanted to know ifI was not well — if I would send him for "su'thing" — I couldonly shake my head and weep. I think Darry was the onlycreature at Magnolia before whom I would have so broken down. But somehow I felt safe with Darry. The tears cleared awayfrom my voice after a little; and I went on with my inquiriesagain. It was a good chance. 

"Uncle Darry, does no one else but you read the Bible?"

He looked dark and troubled. "Missie sees — de folks for mostpart got no learnin'. Dey no read, sure. "

"Do you read the Bible to them, Darry?"

"Miss Daisy knows, dere aint no great time. Dey's in de fieldall day, most days, and dey hab no time for to hear. "

"But Sundays? —" I said. 

"Do try, " — he said, looking graver yet. "Me do 'temptsu'thin'. But missie knows, de Sabbat' be de only day depeople hab, and dey tink mostly of oder tings. "

"And there is no church for you all to go to?"

"No, missis; no church. "

There was a sad tone in this answer. I did not know how to goon. I turned to something else. 

"Uncle Darry, I don't think your home looks very comfortable. "

Darry almost laughed at that. He said it was good enough;would last very well a little while longer. I insisted that itwas not _comfortable_. It was cold. 

"Sun warm, Miss Daisy. De good Lord, He make His sun warm. Anddere be fires enough. "

"But it is very empty, " I said. "You want something more init, to make it look nice. "

"It never empty, Miss Daisy, when de Lord Hisself be here. AndHe not leave His chil'n alone. Miss Daisy know dat?"

I stretched forth my little hand and laid it in Darry's great— black palm. There was an absolute confidence establishedbetween us. 

"Uncle Darry" — I said, "I do love him — but sometimes, I wantto see papa! —"

And therewith my self-command was almost gone. I stood withfull eyes and quivering lips, my hand still in Darry's, who onhis part was speechless with sympathy. 

"De time pass quick, and Miss Daisy see her pa', " — he said atlast. 

I did not think the time passed quick. I said so. 

"Do little missie ask de Lord for help?" Darry said, his eyesby this time as watery as mine. "Do Miss Daisy know, it nebberlonesome where de Lord be? He so good. "

I could not stand any more. I pulled away my hand and stoodstill, looking out of the window and seeing nothing, till Icould make myself quiet. Then I changed the subject and toldDarry I should like to go and see some of the other housesagain. I know now, I can see, looking back, how my childishself-control and reserve made some of those impulsive naturesaround me regard me with something like worshipful reverence. I felt it then, without thinking of it or reasoning about it. From Darry, and from Margaret, and from Mammy Theresa, andfrom several others, I had a loving, tender reverence, whichnot only felt for me as a sorrowful child, but bowed before meas something of higher and stronger nature than themselves. Darry silently attended me now from house to house of thequarters; introducing and explaining and doing all he could tomake my progress interesting and amusing. Interested I was;but most certainly not amused. I did not like the look ofthings any better than I had done at first. The places werenot "nice;" there was a coarse, uncared-for air of everythingwithin, although the outside was in such well dressedcondition. No litter on the grass, no, untidiness of walls orchimneys; and no seeming of comfortable homes when the doorwas opened. The village, for it amounted to that, was almostdeserted at that hour; only a few crooning old women on thesunny side of a wall, and a few half-grown girls, and aquantity of little children, depending for all the care theygot upon one or the other of these. 

"Haven't all these little babies got mothers?" I asked. 

"For sure, Miss Daisy — dey's got modders. "

"Where _are_ the mothers of all these babies, Darry?" I asked. 

"Dey's in de field, Miss Daisy. Home d'rectly. "

"Are they working like _men_, in the fields?" I asked. 

"Dey's all at work, " said Darry. 

"Do they do the same work as the men?"

"All alike, Miss Daisy. " Darry's answers were not hearty. 

"But don't their little babies want them?" said I, looking ata group of girls in whose hands were some very little babiesindeed. I think Darry made me no answer. 

"But if the men and women both work out, " I went on, "papamust give them a great deal of money; I should think theywould have things more comfortable, Darry. Why don't they havelittle carpets, and tables and chairs, and cups and saucers?Hardly anybody has teacups and saucers. Have you _got_ any, uncle Darry?"

" 'Spect I'se no good woman to brew de tea for her ole man, "said Darry; but I thought he looked at me very oddly. 

"Couldn't you make it for yourself, uncle Darry?"

"Poor folks don't live just like de rich folks, " he answeredquietly, after a minute's pause. "And I don't count fur towant no good t'ing, missie. "

I went on with my observations; my questions I thought I wouldnot push any further at that time. I grew more and moredissatisfied, that my father's workpeople should live in nobetter style and in no better comfort. Even Molly Skelton hada furnished and appointed house, compared with these littlebare stone huts; and mothers that would leave their babies forthe sake of more wages must, I thought, be very barbarousmothers. This was all because, no doubt, of having no churchand no Bible. I grew weary. As we were going up the delltowards the stables, I suddenly remembered my pony; and Iasked to see him. 

Darry was much relieved, I fancy, to have me come back to achild's sphere of action. He had out the fat little grey ponyand talked it over to me with great zeal. It came into my headto ask for a saddle. 

"Dere be a saddle" — Darry said doubtfully — "Massa Preston hedone got a saddle dis very day. Dunno where massa Preston canbe. "

I did not heed this. I begged to have the saddle and beallowed to try the pony. Now Preston had laid a plan thatnobody but himself should have the pleasure of first mountingme; but I did not know of this plan. Darry hesitated, I saw, but he had not the power to refuse me. The saddle was broughtout, put on, and carefully arranged. 

"Uncle Darry, I want to get on him — may I ?"

"O' course — Miss Daisy do what she mind to. Him bery good, only some lazy. "

So I was mounted. Preston, Miss Pinshon, the servants'quarters, the multiplication table, all were forgotten andlost in a misty distance. I was in the saddle for the firsttime, and delight held me by both hands. My first moment onhorseback! If Darry had guessed it he would have been terriblyconcerned; but, as it happened, I knew how to take my seat; Ihad watched my mother so often mounting her horse that everydetail was familiar to me; and Darry naturally supposed I knewwhat I was about after I was in my seat. The reins were alittle confusing; however, the pony walked off lazily with meto the head of the glen, and I thought he was an improvementupon the old pony chaise. Finding myself coming out upon theavenue, which I did not wish, it became necessary to get atthe practical use of my bridle. I was at some pains to do it;finally I managed to turn the pony's head round, and we walkedback in the same sober style we had come up. Darry stood bythe stables, smiling and watching me; down among the quartersthe children and old people turned out to look after me; Iwalked down as far as Darry's house, turned and came backagain. Darry stood ready to help me dismount; but it was toopleasant. I went on to the avenue. Just as I turned there, Icaught, as it seemed to me, a glimpse of two ladies, comingtowards me from the house. Involuntarily I gave a sharper pullat the bridle, and I suppose touched the pony's shoulder withthe switch Darry had put into my hand. The touch so woke himup, that he shook off his laziness and broke into a shortgalloping canter to go back to the stables. This was a newexperience. I thought for the first minute that I certainlyshould be thrown off; I seemed to have no hold of anything, and I was tossed up and down on my saddle in a way that bodeda landing on the ground every next time. 

I was not timid with animals, whatever might be true of me inother relations. My first comfort was finding that I did notfall off; then I took heart, and settled myself in the saddlemore securely, gave myself to the motion, and began to think Ishould like it by and by. Nevertheless, for this time I waswilling to stop at the stables; but the pony had only justfound how good it was to be moving, and he went by at fullcanter. Down the dell, through the quarters, past thecottages, till I saw Darry's house ahead of me, and began tothink how I _should_ get round again. At that pace I could not. Could I stop the fellow? I tried, but there was not muchstrength in my arms; one or two pulls did no good, and one ortwo pulls more did no good; pony cantered on, and I saw wewere making straight for the river. I knew then I must stophim; I threw so much good will into the handling of my reinsthat, to my joy, the pony paused, let himself be turned aboutplacidly, and took up his leisurely walk again. But now I wasin a hurry, wanting to be dismounted before anybody shouldcome; and I was a little triumphant, having kept my seat andturned my horse. Moreover, the walk was not good after thatstirring canter. I would try it again. But it took a littleearnestness now and more than one touch of my whip before thepony would mind me. Then he obeyed in good style and wecantered quietly up to where Darry was waiting. The thing wasdone. The pony and I had come to an understanding. I was arider from that time, without fear or uncertainty. The firstgentle pull on the bridle was obeyed and I came to a stop infront of Darry and my cousin Preston. 

I have spent a great deal of time to tell of my ride. Yet notmore than its place in my life then deserved. It was my lasthalf-hour of pleasure for I think many a day. I had canteredup the slope, all fresh in mind and body, excited and gladwith my achievement and with the pleasure of brisk motion; Ihad forgotten everybody and everything disagreeable, or what Idid not forget I disregarded; but just before I stopped I sawwhat sent another thrill than that of pleasure tinglingthrough all my veins. I saw Preston, who had but a momentbefore reached the stables, I saw him lift his hand with alight riding switch he carried, and draw the switch acrossDarry's mouth. I shall never forget the coloured man's face, as he stepped back a pace or two. I understood it afterwards;I _felt_ it then. There was no resentment; there was no fire ofanger, which I should have expected; there was no manly and nostolid disregard of what had been done. There was instead aslight smile, which to this day I cannot bear to recall; itspoke so much of patient and helpless humiliation; as of onewincing at the galling of a sore and trying not to show hewinced. Preston took me off my horse, and began to speak. Iturned away from him to Darry, who now held two horses, Preston having just dismounted; and I thanked him for mypleasure, throwing into my manner all the studied courtesy Icould. Then I walked up the dell beside Preston, withoutlooking at him. 

Preston scolded. He had prepared a surprise for me, and wasexcited by his disappointment at my mounting without him. Ofcourse I had not known that; and Darry, who was in the secret, had not known how to refuse me. I gave Preston no answer tohis charges and reproaches. At last I said I was tired and Iwished he would not talk. 

"Tired! you are something besides tired, " he said. 

"I suppose I am, " I answered with great deliberation. 

He was eager to know what it was; but then we came out uponthe avenue and were met flush by my aunt and Miss Pinshon. Myaunt inquired, and Preston, who was by no means cool yet, accused me about the doings of the afternoon. I scarcelyheeded one or the other; but I did feel Miss Pinshon's takingmy I hand and leading me home all the rest of the way. It wasnot that I wanted to talk to Preston, for I was not ready totalk to him; but this holding me like a little child wasexcessively distasteful to my habit of freedom. My governesswould not loose her clasp when we got to the house; but keptfast hold and led me up stairs to my own room. 

CHAPTER IV. 

SEVEN HUNDRED PEOPLE. 

"Do you think that was a proper thing to do, Daisy?" mygoverness asked when she released me. 

"What thing, ma'am?" I asked. 

"To tear about alone on that great grey pony. "

"Yes, ma'am, " I said. 

"You think it _was_ proper?" said Miss Pinshon, coolly. "Whomhad you with you?"

"Nobody was riding with me. "

"Your cousin was there?"

"No, ma'am. "

"Who then?"

"I had Uncle Darry. I was only riding up and down the dell. "

"The coachman! And were you riding up and down through thequarters all the afternoon?"

"No, ma'am. "

"What were you doing the rest of the time?"

"I was going about —" I hesitated. 

"About where?"

"Through the place there. "

"The quarters? Well, you think it proper amusement for yourmother's daughter? You are not to make companions of theservants, Daisy. You are not to go to the quarters without mypermission, and I shall not give it frequently. Now getyourself ready for tea. "

I did feel as if Preston's prophecy were coming true and I ina way to be gradually petrified; some slow, chill work of thatkind seemed already to be going on. But a little thing soonstirred all the life there was in me. Miss Pinshon stepped tothe door which led from her room into mine, unlocked it, tookout the key, and put it on her own side of the door. I sprangforward at that, with a word, I do not know what; and mygoverness turned her lustrous, unmoved eyes calmly upon me. Iremember now how deadening their look was, in their verylustre and moveless calm. I begged, however, for a reversal ofher last proceeding; I wanted my door locked sometimes, Isaid. 

"You can lock the other door. "

"But I want both locked. "

"I do not. This door remains open, Daisy. I must come in herewhen I please. Now make haste and get ready. "

I had no time for anything but to obey. I went down stairs, Ithink, like a machine; my body obeying certain laws, while mymind and spirit were scarcely present. I suppose I behavedmyself as usual; save that I would have nothing to do withPreston, nor would I receive anything whatever at the tablefrom his hand. This, however, was known only to him and me. Isaid nothing; not the less every word that others saidfastened itself in my memory. I was like a person dreaming. 

"You have just tired yourself with mounting that wild thing, Daisy, " said my aunt Gary. 

"Wild!" said Preston. "About as wild as a tame sloth. "

"I always heard that was very wild indeed, " said Miss Pinshon. "The sloth cannot be tamed, can it?"

"Being stupid already, I suppose not, " said Preston. 

"Daisy looks pale at any rate, " said my aunt. 

"A little overdone, " said Miss Pinshon. "She wants regularexercise; but irregular exercise is very trying to any but astrong person. I think Daisy will be stronger in a few weeks. "

"What sort of exercise do you think will be good for her, ma'am?" Preston said, with an expression out of all keepingwith his words, it was so fierce. 

"I shall try different sorts, " my governess answered, composedly. "Exercise of patience is a very good thing, MasterGary. I think gymnastics will be useful for Daisy, too. Ishall try them. "

"That is what I have often said to my sister, " said aunt Gary. "I have no doubt that sort of training would establish Daisy'sstrength more than anything in the world. She just wants that, to develop her and bring out the muscles. "

Preston almost groaned; pushed his chair from the table, and Iknew sat watching me. I would give him no opportunity, for myopportunity I could not have then. I kept quiet till theladies moved; I moved with them; and sat all the eveningabstracted in my own meditations, without paying Preston anyattention; feeling indeed very old and grey, as no doubt Ilooked. When I was ordered to bed, Miss Pinshon desired Iwould hold no conversation with anybody. Whereupon Prestontook my candle and boldly marched out of the room with me. When we were upstairs, he tried to make me disobey my orders. He declared I was turning to stone already; he said a greatmany hard words against my governess; threatened he wouldwrite to my father; and when he could not prevail to make metalk, dashed off passionately and left me. I went tremblinginto my room. But my refuge there was gone. I had fallen uponevil times. My door must not be locked, and Miss Pinshon mightcome in any minute. I could not pray. I undressed and went tobed; and lay there, waiting, all things in order, till mygoverness looked in. Then the door was closed, and I hear hersteps moving about in her room. I lay and listened. At lastthe door was softly set open again; and then after a fewminutes the sound of regular slow breathing proclaimed thatthose wide-open black eyes were really closed for the night. Igot up, went to my governess's door and listened. She wassleeping profoundly. I laid hold of the handle of the door anddrew it towards me; pulled out the key softly, put it in myown side of the lock and shut the door. And after all I wasafraid to turn the key. The wicked sound of the lock mightenter those sleeping ears. But the door was closed; and I wentto my old place, the open window. It was not my window atMelbourne, with balmy summer air, and the dewy scent of thehoneysuckle coming up, and the moonlight flooding all theworld beneath me. But neither was it in the regions of theNorth. The night was still and mild, if not balmy; and thestars were brilliant; and the evergreen oaks were masses ofdark shadow all over the lawn. I do not think I saw them atfirst; for my look was up to the sky, where the stars shonedown to greet me, and where it was furthest from all thetroubles on the surface of the earth; and with one thought ofthe Friend up there, who does not forget the troubles of evenHis little children, the barrier in my heart gave way, mytears gushed forth; my head lay on the windowsill at Magnolia, more hopelessly than in my childish sorrow it had ever lain atMelbourne. I kept my sobs quiet; I must; but they were deep, heart-breaking sobs, for a long time. 

Prayer got its chance after a while. I had a great deal topray for; it seemed to my child's heart now and then as if itcould hardly bear its troubles. And very much I felt I wantedpatience and wisdom. I thought there was a great deal to do, even for my little hands; and promise of great hindrance andopposition. And the only one pleasant thing I could think ofin my new life at Magnolia, was that I might tell of the truthto those poor people who lived in the negro quarters. 

Why I did not make myself immediately ill, with my night'svigils and sorrow, I cannot tell; unless it were that greatexcitement kept off the effects of chill air and damp. However, the excitement had its own effects; and my eyes weresadly heavy when they I opened the next morning to look atMargaret lighting my fire. 

"Margaret, " I said, "shut Miss Pinshon's door, will you?"

She obeyed, and then turning to look at me, exclaimed that Iwas not well. 

"Did you say you could not read, Margaret?" was my answer. 

"Read"! no, missis, Guess readin' aint no good for servants. Seems like Miss Daisy aint lookin' peart, this mornin'. "

"Would you _like_ to read?"

"Reckon don't care about it, Miss Daisy. Where'd us get books, most likely?"

I said I would get the books; but Margaret turned to the fireand made me no answer. I heard her mutter some ejaculation. 

"Because, Margaret, don't you know, " I said, raising myself onmy elbow, "God would like to have you learn to read, so thatyou might know the Bible and come to heaven. "

"Reckon folks aint a heap better that knows the Bible, " saidthe girl. "Pears as if it don't make no difference. Aintnobody good in _this_ place, 'cept uncle Darry. "

In another minute I was out of bed and standing before thefire, my hand on her shoulder. I told her I wanted _her_ to begood too, and that Jesus would make her good, if she would letHim. Margaret gave me a hasty look and then finished her firemaking; but to my great astonishment, a few minutes after, Isaw that the tears were running down the girl's face. Itastonished me so much that I said no more; and Margaret was assilent; only dressed me with the greatest attention andtenderness. 

"Ye want your breakfast bad, Miss Daisy, " she remarked then ina subdued tone; and I suppose my looks justified her words. They created some excitement when I went down stairs. My auntexclaimed; Miss Pinshon inquired; Preston inveighed, at thingsin general. He wanted to get me by myself, I knew; but he hadno chance. Immediately after breakfast Miss Pinshon tookpossession of me. 

The day was less weary than the day before, only I thinkbecause I was tired beyond impatience or nervous excitement. Not much was done; for though I was very willing I had verylittle power. But the multiplication table, Miss Pinshon said, was easy work; and at that and reading and writing, themorning crept away. My hand was trembling, my voice was faint;my memory grasped nothing so clearly as Margaret's tears thatmorning, and Preston's behaviour the preceding day. My cheekswere pale of course. Miss Pinshon said we would begin to setthat right with a walk after dinner. 

The walk was had; but with my hand clasped in Miss Pinshon's Ionly wished myself at home all the way. At home again, after awhile of lying down to rest, I was tried with a beginning ofcalisthenics. A trial it was to me. The exercises, directedand overseen by Miss Pinshon, seemed to me simply intolerable;a weariness beyond all other weariness. Even themultiplication table I liked better. Miss Pinshon was tiredperhaps herself at last. She let me go. 

It was towards the end of the day. With no life left in me foranything, I strolled out into the sunshine; aimlessly atfirst; then led by a secret inclination I hardly knew orquestioned, my steps slowly made their way round by the avenueto the stables. Darry was busy there as I had found himyesterday. He looked hard at me as I came up; and asked meearnestly how I felt that afternoon? I told him I was tired;and then I sat down, on a huge log which lay there and watchedhim at his work. By turns I watched the sunlight streamingalong the turf and lighting the foliage of the trees on theother side of the dell; looking in a kind of dream, as if Iwere not Daisy nor this Magnolia in any reality. I suddenlystarted and awoke to realities as Darry began to sing —

"My Father's house is built on high, Far, far above the starry sky;

And though like Lazarus sick and poor, My heavenly mansion is secure. 

I'm going home, —

I'm going home, —

I'm going home

To die no more!

To die no more —

To die no more —

I'm going home

To die no more!"

The word "home" at the end of each line was dwelt upon in aprolonged sonorous note. It filled my ear with its melodious, plaintive breath of repose; it rested and soothed me. I waslistening in a sort of trance, when another sound at my sideboth stopped the song and quite broke up the effect. It wasPreston's voice. Now for it. He was all ready for a fight; andI felt miserably battered and shaken and unfit to fightanything. 

"What are you doing here, Daisy?"

"I am doing nothing, " I said. 

"It is almost tea-time. Hadn't you better be walking come, before Medusa comes looking out for you?"

I rose up, and bade uncle Darry good night. 

"Good night, missis!" he said heartily — "and de morning dathab no night, for my dear little missis, by'm by. "

I gave him my hand, and walked on. 

"Stuff!" muttered Preston, by my side. 

"You will not think it 'stuff' when the time comes, " I said, no doubt very gravely. Then Preston burst out. 

"I only wish aunt Felicia was here! You will spoil thesepeople, Daisy, that's one thing; or you would if you wereolder. As it is, you are spoiling yourself. "

I made no answer. He went on with other angry and excitedwords, wishing to draw me out perhaps; but I was in no mood totalk to Preston in any tone but one. I went steadily andslowly on, without even turning my head to look at him. I hadhardly life enough to talk to him in that tone. 

"Will you tell me what is the matter with you?" he said, atlast, very impatiently. 

"I am tired, I think. "

"Think? Medusa is stiffening the life out of you. _Think_ youare tired! You are tired to death; but that is not all. Whatails you?"

"I do not think anything ails me. "

"What ails _me_, then? What is the matter? what makes you actso? Speak, Daisy — you must speak!"

I turned about and faced him, and I know I did not speak thenas a child, but with a gravity befitting fifty years. 

"Preston, did you strike Uncle Darry yesterday?"

"Pooh!" said Preston. But I stood and waited for his answer. 

"Nonsense, Daisy!" he said again. 

"What is nonsense?"

"Why, _you_. What are you talking about?"

"I asked you a question. "

"A ridiculous question. You are just absurd. "

"Will you please to answer it?"

"I don't know whether I will. What have you to do with it?"

"In the first place, Preston, Darry is not your servant. "

"Upon my word!" said Preston. "But, yes, he is; for mamma isregent here now. He must do what I order him, anyhow. "

"And then, Preston, Darry is better than you, and will notdefend himself; and somebody ought to defend him; and there isnobody but me. "

"Defend himself!" echoed Preston. 

"Yes. You insulted him yesterday. "

"Insulted him!"

"You know you did. You know, Preston, some men would not haveborne it. If Darry had been like some men, he would haveknocked you down. "

"Knock me down!" cried Preston. "The sneaking old scoundrel!He knows that I would shoot him if he did. "

"I am speaking seriously, Preston. It is no use to talk thatway. "

"I am speaking very seriously, " said my cousin. "I would shoothim, upon my honour. "

"Shoot him!"

"Certainly. "

"What right have you to shoot a man for doing no worse thanyou do? I would _rather_ somebody would knock me down, than dowhat you did yesterday!" And my heart swelled within me. 

"Come, Daisy, be a little sensible!" said Preston, who was ina fume of impatience. "Do you think there is no differencebetween me and an old nigger?"

"A great deal of difference, " I said. "He is old and good; andyou are young, and I wish you were as good as Darry. And thenhe can't help himself without perhaps losing his place, nomatter how you insult him. I think it is cowardly. "

"Insult!" said Preston. "Lose his place! Heavens and earth, Daisy! are you such a simpleton?"

"You insulted him very badly yesterday. I wondered how he boreit of you; only Darry is a Christian. "

"A fiddlestick!" said Preston impatiently. "He knows he mustbear whatever I choose to give him; and therein he is wiserthan you are. "

"Because he is a Christian, " said I. 

"I don't know whether he is a Christian or not; and it isnothing to the purpose. I don't care what he is. "

"Oh, Preston! he is a good man — he is a servant of God; hewill wear a crown of gold in heaven; — and you have dared totouch him!"

"Why, hoity toity!" said Preston. "What concern of mine is allthat! All I know is, that he did not do what I ordered him. "

"What did you order him?"

"I ordered him not to show you the saddle I had got for you, till I was there. I was going to surprise you. I am provokedat him!"

"I am surprised —" I said. But feeling how little I prevailedwith Preston, and being weak in body as well as mind, I couldnot keep back the tears. I began to walk on again, though theyblinded me. 

"Daisy, don't be foolish. If Darry is to wear two crowns inthe other world, he is a servant in this, all the same; and hemust do his duty. "

"I asked for the saddle —" I said. 

"Why, Daisy, Daisy!" Preston exclaimed — "don't be such achild. You know nothing about it. I didn't touch Darry to hurthim. "

"It was a sort of hurt that if he had not been a Christian hewould have made you sorry for. "

"He knows I would shoot him if he did, " said Preston coolly. 

"Preston, don't speak so!" I pleaded. 

"It is the simple truth. Why shouldn't I speak it?"

"You do not mean that you would do it?" I said, scarce openingmy eyes to the reality of what he said. 

"I give you my word, I do! If one of these black fellows laida hand on me I would put a bullet through him, as quick as apartridge. "

"But then you would be a murderer —" said I. The ground seemedtaken away from under my feet. We were standing still now, andfacing each other. 

"No, I shouldn't, " said Preston. "The law takes better care ofus than that. "

"The law would hang you, " said I. 

"I tell you, Daisy, it is no such thing! Gentlemen have aright to defend themselves against the insolence of theseblack fellows. "

"And have not the black fellows a right to defend themselvesagainst the insolence of gentlemen?" said I. 

"Daisy? you are talking the most unspeakable non- sense, " saidPreston, quite put beyond himself now. "_Don't_ you know anybetter than that? These people are our servants — they are ourproperty — we are to do what we like with them; and of coursethe law must see that we are protected, or the blacks and thewhites could not live together. "

"A man may be your servant, but he cannot be your property, " Isaid. 

"Yes, he can! They are our property, just as much as the landis; our goods, to do what we like with. Didn't you know that?"

"Property is something that you can buy and sell, " I answered. 

"And we sell these people, and buy them too, as fast as welike. "

"_Sell_ them!" I echoed, thinking of Darry. 

"Certainly. "

"And who would buy them?"

"Why, all the world; everybody. There has been nobody sold offthe Magnolia estate, I believe, in a long time; but nothing ismore common, Daisy; everybody is doing it everywhere, when hehas got too many servants, or when he has got too few. "

"And do you mean, " said I, "that Darry and Margaret andTheresa and all the rest here, have been _bought?_"

"No; almost all of them have been born on the place. "

"Then it is not true of these, " I said. 

"Yes, it is; for their mothers and fathers were bought. It isthe same thing. "

"Who bought them?" I asked hastily. 

"Why! our mothers, and grandfather and great-grandfather. "

"_Bought_ the fathers and mothers of all these hundreds ofpeople?" said I, a slow horror creeping into my veins, thatyet held childish blood, and but half comprehended. 

"Certainly — ages ago, " said Preston. "Why, Daisy, I thoughtyou knew all about it. "

"But who sold them first?" said I, my mind in its utterrejection of what was told me, seeking every refuge fromaccepting it. "Who sold them at first?"

"Who first? Oh, the people that brought them over from Africa, I suppose; or the people in their own country that sold themto _them_. "

"They had no right to sell them, " I said. 

"Can't tell about that, " said Preston. "We bought them. Isuppose we had a right to do that. "

"But if the fathers and mothers were bought, " I insisted, "that gives us no right to have their children. "

"I would like you to ask aunt Felicia or my uncle Randolphsuch a question, " said Preston. "Just see how they would likethe idea of giving up all their property! Why you would be aspoor as Job, Daisy. "

"The land would be here all the same. "

"Much good the land would do you, without people to work it. "

"But other people could be hired as well as these, " I said, "if any of these wanted to go away. "

"No they couldn't. White people cannot bear the climate nor dothe work. The crops cannot be raised without coloured labour. "

"I do not understand, " said I, feeling my child's headpuzzled. "Maybe none of our people would like to go away?"

"I dare say they wouldn't, " said Preston carelessly. "They arebetter off here than on most plantations. Uncle Randolph neverforbids his hands to have meat; and some planters do. "

"Forbid them to have meat!" I said in utter bewilderment. 

"Yes. "

"Why?"

"They think it makes them fractious, and not so easy tomanage. Don't you know, it makes a dog savage to feed him onraw meat? I suppose cooked meat has the same effect on men. "

"But don't they get what they choose to eat?"

"Well, I should think not!" said Preston. "Fancy their askingto be fed on chickens and pound cake. That is what they wouldlike. "

"But cannot they spend their wages for what they like?"

"Wages!" said Preston. 

"Yes, " said I. 

"My dear Daisy, " said Preston, "you are talking of what youjust utterly don't understand; and I am a fool for botheringyou with it. Come! let us make it up and be friends. "

He stooped to kiss me, but I stepped back. 

"Stop, " I said. "Tell me — can't they do what they like withtheir wages?"

"I don't think they have wages enough to 'do what they like'exactly, " said Preston. "Why, they would 'Iike' to do nothing. These black fellows are the laziest things living. They would'like' to lie in the sun all day long. "

"What wages does Darry have?" I asked. 

"Now, Daisy, this is none of your business. Come, let us gointo the house and let it alone. "

"I want to know, first, " said I. 

"Daisy, I never asked. What have I to do with Darry's wages?"

"I will ask himself, " I said; and I turned about to go to thestables. 

"Stop, Daisy, " cried Preston. "Daisy, Daisy! you are the mostobstinate Daisy that ever was, when once you have taken athing in your head. Daisy, what have you to do with all this. Look here — these people don't want wages. "

"Don't want wages!" I repeated. 

"No; they don't want them. What would they do with wages? theyhave everything they need given them already; their food andtheir clothing and their houses. They do not want anythingmore. "

"You said they did not have the food they liked, " I objected. 

"Who does?" said Preston. "I am sure I don't, — not more thanone day in seven, on an average. "

"But don't they have any wages at all?" I persisted. "Ourcoachman at Melbourne had thirty dollars a month; and Loganhad forty dollars, and his house and garden. Why shouldn'tDarry have wages too? Don't they have any wages at all, Preston?"

"Why, yes! they have plenty of corn bread and bacon, I tellyou; and their clothes. Daisy, they _belong_ to you, thesepeople do. "

Corn bread and bacon was not much like chickens and poundcake, I thought; and I remembered our servants at Melbournewere very, very differently dressed from the women I saw aboutme here; even in the house. I stood bewildered and pondering. Preston tried to get me to go on. 

"Why shouldn't they have wages?" I asked at length, with lipswhich I believe were growing old with my thoughts. 

"Daisy, they are your servants; they _belong_ to you. They haveno right to wages. Suppose you had to pay all these creatures— seven hundred of them — as you pay people at Melbourne; howmuch do you suppose you would have left to live uponyourselves? What nonsense it is to talk!"

"But they work for us, " I said. 

"Certainly. There would not be anything for any of us if theydidn't. Here, at Magnolia, they raise rice crops and corn, aswell as cotton; at our place we grow nothing but cotton andcorn. "

"Well, what pays them for working?"

"I told you! they have their living and clothing and no care;and they are the happiest creatures the sun shines on. "

"Are they willing to work for only that?" I asked. 

"Willing!" said Preston. 

"Yes, " said I, feeling myself grow sick at heart. 

"I fancy nobody asks them that question. They have to work, Ireckon, whether they like it or no. "

"You said they _like_ to lie in the sun. What makes them work?"

"Makes them!" said Preston, who was getting irritated as wellas impatient. "They get a good flogging if they do not work —that is all. They know, if they don't do their part, the lashwill come down; and it don't come down easy. "

I suppose I must have looked as if it had come down: on me. Preston stopped talking and began to take care of me; puttinghis arm round me to support my steps homeward. In the verandahmy aunt met us. She immediately decided that I was ill, andordered me to go to bed at once. It was the thing of allothers I would have wished to do. It saved me from theexertion of trying to hold myself up and of speaking andmoving and answering questions. I went to bed in dull misery, longing to go to sleep and forget all my troubles of mind andbody together; but while the body vested, the mind would not. That kept the consciousness of its burden; and it was that, more than any physical ail, which took away my power ofeating, and created instead a wretched sort of half nausea, which made even rest unrefreshing. As for rest in my mind andheart, it seemed at that time as if I should never know itagain. Never again! I was a child — I had but vague ideasrespecting even what troubled me; nevertheless I had beenstruck, where may few children be struck! in the very core andquick of my heart's reverence and affection. It had come hometo me that papa was somehow doing wrong. My father was in mychildish thought and belief, the ideal of chivalrous and high-bred excellence; — and _papa_ was doing wrong. I could not turnmy eyes from the truth; it was before me in too visible aform. It did not arrange itself in words, either; not atfirst; it only pressed upon my heart and brain that sevenhundred people on my father's property were injured, and byhis will, and for his interests. Dimly the consciousness cameto me; slowly it found its way and spread out; its detailsbefore me; bit by bit one point after another came into mymind to make the whole good; bit by bit one item after anothercame in to explain and be explained and to add its quota oftestimony; all making clear and distinct and dazzling beforeme the truth which at first it was so hard to grasp. And thisis not the less true because my childish thought at first tookeverything vaguely and received it slowly. I was a child and asimple child; but once getting hold of a clue of truth, mymind never let it go. Step by step, as a child could, Ifollowed it out. And the balance of the golden rule, to whichI was accustomed, is an easy one to weigh things in; and evenlittle hands can manage it. 

For an hour after they put me to bed my heart seemed to growchill from minute to minute; and my body, in curious sympathy, shook as if I had an ague. My aunt and Miss Pinshon came andwent and were busy about me; making me drink negus and puttinghot bricks to my feet. Preston stole in to look at me; but Igathered that neither then nor afterwards did he reveal to anyone the matter of our conversation the hour before. "Wearied"— "homesick" — "feeble" — "with no sort of strength to bearanything" — they said I was. All true, no doubt; and yet I wasnot without powers of endurance, even bodily, if my mind gavea little help. Now the trouble was, that all such help waswanting. The dark figures of the servants came and went too, with the others; came and stayed; Margaret and Mammy Theresatook post in my room, and when they could do nothing for me, crouched by the fire and spent their cares and energies inkeeping that in full blast. I could hardly bear to see them;but I had no heart to speak even to ask that they might besent away, or for anything else; and I had a sense besidesthat it was a gratification to them to be near me; and togratify any one of the race I would have borne a good deal ofpain. 

It smites my heart now, to think of those hours. The image ofthem is sharp and fresh as if the time were but last night. Ilay with shut eyes, taking in as it seemed to me, additionalloads of trouble with each quarter of an hour; as I thoughtand thought and put one and another thing together, of thingspast and present, to help my understanding. A child will carryon that process fast and to far-off results; give her but thekey and set her off on the track of truth with a sufficientimpetus. My happy childlike ignorance and childlike life wasin a measure gone; I had come into the world of vexedquestions, of the oppressor and the oppressed, the full andthe empty, the rich and the poor. I could make nothing at allof Preston's arguments and reasonings. The logic of expediencyand of consequences carried no weight with me, and as littlethe logic of self-interest. I sometimes think a child's visionis clearer, even in worldly matters, than the eyes of thosecan be who have lived long among the fumes and vapours whichrise in these low grounds. Unless the eyes be washed day byday in the spring of truth, and anointed with unearthlyointment. The right and the wrong, were the two things thatpresented themselves to my view; and oh, my sorrow andheartbreak was, that papa was in the wrong. I could notbelieve it, and yet I could not get rid of it. There wereoppressors and oppressed at the world; and he was one of theoppressors. There is no sorrow that a child can bear, keenerand more gnawingly bitter than this. It has a sting all itsown, for which there is neither salve nor remedy; and it hadthe aggravation, in my case, of the sense of personaldishonour. The wrong done and the oppression inflicted werenot the whole; there was besides the intolerable sense ofliving upon other's gains. It was more than my heart couldbear. 

I could not write as I do, — I could not recall these thoughtsand that time, — if I had not another thought to bring to bearupon them; a thought which at that time I was not able tocomprehend. It came to me later with its healing, and I haveseen and felt it more clearly as I grew older. I see it veryclearly now. I had not been mistaken in my childish notions ofthe loftiness and generosity of my father's character. He waswhat I had thought him. Neither was I a whit wrong in myjudgment of the things which it grieved me that he did andallowed. But I saw afterwards how he, and others, had grown upand been educated in a system and atmosphere of falsehood, till he failed to perceive that it was false. His eyes hadlived in the darkness till it seemed quite comfortably lightto him; while to a fresh vision, accustomed to the sun, it waspure and blank darkness, as thick as night. He followed whatothers did and his father had done before him, without anysuspicion that it was an abnormal and morbid condition ofthings they were all living in; more especially without atinge of misgiving that it might not be a noble, upright anddignified way of life. But I, his little unreasoning child, bringing the golden rule of the gospel only to judge of thedoings of hell, shrank back and fell to the ground, in myheart, to find the one I loved best in the world concerned inthem. 

So when I opened my eyes that night, and looked into the blazeof the firelight, the dark figures that were there before itstung me with pain every time; and a every soft word andtender look on their faces — and I had many a one, both wordsand looks — racked my heart in a way that was strange for achild. The negus put me to sleep at last, or exhaustion did; Ithink the latter, for it was very late; and the rest of thatnight wore away. 

When I awoke, the two women were there still, just as I hadleft them when I went to sleep. I do not know if they satthere all night, or if they had slept on the floor by my side;but there they were, and talking softly to one another aboutsomething that caught my attention. I bounced out of bed —though I was so weak I remember I reeled as I went from my bedto the fire — and steadied myself by laying my a hand on MammyTheresa's shoulder. I demanded of Margaret _what_ she had beensaying? The women both started, with expressions of surprise, alarm, and tender affection, raised by my ghostly looks, andbegged me to get back into bed again. I stood fast, bearing onTheresa's shoulder. 

"What was it?" I asked. 

" 'Twarn't nothin', Miss Daisy, dear!" said the girl. 

"Hush! Don't tell me that, " I said. "Tell me what it was —tell me what it was. Nobody shall know; you need not beafraid; nobody shall know. " For I saw a cloud of hesitation inMargaret's face. 

" 'Twarn't nothin', Miss Daisy — only about Darry. "

"What about Darry?" I said, trembling. 

"He done went and had a praise-meetin', " said Theresa; "and heknowed it war agin the rules; he knowed that. 'Course he did. Rules mus' be kep'. "

"Whose rules?" I asked. 

"Laws, honey, 'taint 'cording to rules for we coloured folksto hold meetin's no how. 'Course, we's ought to 'bey de rules;dat's clar. "

"Who made the rules?"

"Who make 'em? Mass' Ed'ards — he make de rules on displantation. Reckon Mass' Randolph, he make 'em a heapdifferent. "

"Does Mr. Edwards make it a rule that you are not to holdprayer-meetings?"

"Can't spec' for to have everyt'ing jus' like de white folks, "said the old woman. "We's no right to 'spect it. But UncleDarry, he sot a sight by his praise-meetin'. He's cur'ous, heis. S'pose Darry's cur'ous. "

"And does anybody say that you shall not have prayer-meetings?"

"Laws, honey! What's we got to do wid praise-meetin's or anysort o' meetin's? We'se got to work. Mass' Ed'ards, he say datde meetin's dey makes coloured folks onsettled; and dey don'thoe de corn good if dey has too much prayin' to do. "

"And does he forbid them then? Doesn't he let you have prayer-meetings?"

" 'Taint Mr. Edwards alone, Miss Daisy, " said Margaret, speaking low. "It's agin the law for us to have meetin'sanyhow — 'cept we get leave, and say what house it shall be, and who's a comin', and what we'se a comin' for. And it's nouse asking Mr. Edwards, 'cause he don't see no reason whyblack folks should have meetin's. "

"Did Darry have a prayer-meeting without leave?" I asked. 

" 'Twarn't no count of a meetin'!" said Theresa, a little touchof scorn, or indignation, coming into her voice; — "and Darry, he war in his own house prayin'. Dere warn't nobody dere, butPete and ole 'Liza, and Maria cook, and dem two Johns dat comefrom de lower plantation. Dey couldn't get a strong meetin'into Uncle Darry's house; 'taint big enough to hold 'em. "

"And what did the overseer do to Darry?" I asked. 

"Laws, Miss Daisy, " said Margaret, with a quick look at theother woman, — "he didn't do nothin' to hurt Darry; he onlywant to scare de folks. "

"Dey's done scared —" said Theresa under her breath. 

"What is it?" I said, steadying myself by my hold on Theresa'sshoulder, and feeling that I must stand till I had finished myenquiry — how did he know about the meeting? and what did hedo to Darry? — Tell me! I must know. I must know, Margaret. "

" 'Spect he was goin' through the quarters, and he heard Darryat his prayin', " said Margaret. "Darry, he don't mind to keephis prayers secret, he don't, " — she added with a half laugh. " 'Spect nothin' but they'll bust the walls o' that littlehouse some day. "

"Dey's powerful!" added Theresa. "But he warn't prayin' noharm; he was just prayin', 'Dy will be done, on de eart' as itbe in de heaven' — Pete, he tell me. Darry warn't sayingnot'ing — he just pray 'Dy will be done. '!"

"Well?" I said, for Margaret kept silent. 

"And de oberseer, he say — leastways he swore, he did, — dathis will should be what is done on dis plantation, and hewouldn't have no such work. He say, dere's nobody to cometogedder after it be dark, if it's two or t'ree, 'cept deygets his leave, Mass' Ed'ards, he say; and dey won't get it. "

"But what did he do to Darry?" I could scarcely hold myself onmy feet by this time. 

"He whipped him, I reckon, " — said Margaret in a low tone, andwith a dark shadow crossing her face, very different from itsown brown duskiness. 

"He don't have a light hand, Mass' Ed'ards, " went on Theresa;"and he got a sharp new whip. De second stripe, — Pete, hetell me, — he tell me dis evenin' — and it war wet; and it warwet enough before he got through. He war mad, I reckon;certain Mass' Ed'ards, he war mad. "

"_Wet?_" said I. 

"Laws, Miss Daisy, " said Margaret, " 'tain't nothin'. Themwhips, they draws the blood easy. Darry, he don't mind. "

I have a recollection of the girl's terrified face, but Iheard nothing more. Such a deadly sickness came over me thatfor a minute I must have been near fainting; happily it tookanother turn amid the various confused feelings whichoppressed me, and I burst into tears. My eyes had not been wetthrough all the hours of the evening and night; my heartachehad been dry. I think I was never very easy to move to tears, even as a child. But now, well for me perhaps, some element ofthe pain I was suffering found the unguarded point — or brokeup the guard. I wept as I have done very few times in my life. I had thrown myself into Mammy Theresa's lap, in the weaknesswhich could not support itself, and in an abandonment of griefwhich was careless of all the outside world; and there I lay, clasped in her arms and sobbing. Grief, horror, tendersympathy, and utter helplessness, striving together; there wasnothing for me at that moment but the woman's refuge and thechild's remedy of weeping. But the weeping was so bitter, soviolent, and so uncontrollable that the women were frightened. I believe they shut the doors, to keep the sound of my sobsfrom reaching other ears; for when I recovered the use of mysenses I saw that they were closed. 

The certain strange relief which tears do bring, they gave tome. I cannot tell why. My pain was not changed, myhelplessness was not done away; yet at least I had washed mycauses of sorrow in a flood of heart drops, and cleansed themso somehow from any personal stain. Rather, I was perfectlyexhausted. The women put me to bed, as soon as I would letthem; and Margaret whispered an earnest, "Do, don't, MissDaisy, don't say nothin' about the prayer-meetin'!" — I shookmy head; I knew better than to say anything about it. 

All the better not to betray them, and myself, I shut my eyes, and tried to let my face grow quiet. I had succeeded, Ibelieve, before my aunt Gary and Miss Pinshon came in. The twostood looking at me; my aunt in some consternation, mygoverness reserving any expression of what she thought. Ifancied she did not trust my honesty. Another time I mighthave made an effort to right myself in her opinion; but I waspast that and everything now. It was decided by my aunt that Ihad better keep my bed as long as I felt like doing so. 

So I lay there during the long hours of that day. I was gladto be still, to keep out of the way in a corner, to hearlittle and see nothing of what was going on; my own smallworld of thoughts was enough to keep me busy. I grew utterlyweary at last of thinking, and gave it up, so far as I could;submitting passively, in a state of pain sometimes dull andsometimes acute, to what I had no power to change or remedy. But my father had, I thought; and at those times my longingwas unspeakable to see him. I was very quiet all that day, Ibelieve, in spite of the rage of wishes and sorrows within me;but it was not to be expected I should gain strength. On thecontrary, I think I grew feverish. If I could have laid downmy troubles in prayer! but at first, these troubles, I couldnot. The core and root of them being my father's a share inthe rest. And I was not alone; and I had a certainconsciousness that if I allowed myself to go to my littleBible for help, it would unbar my self-restraint with itssweet and keen words, and I should give way again beforeMargaret and Theresa; and I did not wish that. 

"What shall we do with her?" said my aunt Gary, when she cameto me towards the evening. "She looks like a mere shadow. Inever saw such a change in a child in four weeks — never!"

"Try a different regimen to-morrow, I think, " said mygoverness, whose lustrous black eyes looked at me sick, exactly as they had looked at me well. 

"I shall send for a doctor, if she isn't better, " said myaunt. "She's feverish now. "

"Keeping her bed all day, " — said Miss Pinshon. 

"Do you think so?" said my aunt. 

"I have no doubt of it. It is very weakening. "

"Then we will let her get up to-morrow, and see how that willdo. "

They had been gone half an hour, when Preston stole in andcame to the side of my bed, between me and the firelight. 

"Come, Daisy, let us be friends!" he said. And he was stoopingto 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 worldupside down directly. "

I thought it was upside down already; but I was too weak anddownhearted to say so. 

"Daisy, Daisy!" said Preston — "And there you lie, lookinglike a poor little wood flower that has hardly strength tohold up its head; and with about as much colour in yourcheeks. 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, youknow. " And he stooped again to kiss me. And again I would notsuffer him. 

"Daisy, you are absurd, " said Preston, vibrating between pityand 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. "

"You don't, " — said I. 

"What?"

"Know anything about it. " I remember I spoke very feebly. Ihad hardly energy left to speak at all. My words must havecome with a curious contrast between the meaning and themanner. 

"Know anything, about what, Daisy? You are as oracular and asimmoveable as one of Egypt's monuments; only they are veryhard, and — you are very soft, my dear little Daisy! — andthey are very brown, according to all I have heard, and youare as white as a wind-flower. One can almost see through you. What is it I don't know anything about?"

"I am so tired, Preston!"

"Yes, but what is it I don't know anything about?"

"Darry's place — and yours, " I said. 

"His place and mine! His place is a servant's, I take it, belonging to Rudolf Randolph, of Magnolia. I am the unworthyrepresentative of an old Southern family, and a gentleman. What have you to say about that?"

"He is a servant of the Lord of lords, " I said; "and hisMaster loves him. And He has a house of glory preparing forhim, and a crown of gold, and a white robe, such as the King'schildren wear. And he will sit on a throne himself by and by. Preston, where will _you_ be?"

These words were said without the least heat of manner —almost languidly; but they put Preston in a fume. I could notcatch his excitement in the least; but I saw it. He stood upagain, hesitated, opened his mouth to speak and shut itwithout speaking, turned and walked away and came back to me. I did not wait for him then. 

"You have offended one of the King's children, " I said; "andthe King is offended. "

"Daisy!" said Preston, in a sort of suppressed fury, "onewould think you had turned Abolitionist; only you never heardof such a thing. "

"What is it?" said I, shutting my eyes. 

"It is just the meanest and most impudent shape a Northernercan take; it is the lowest end of creation, an Abolitionistis; and a Yankee is pretty much the same thing. "

"Dr. Sandford is a Yankee, " I remarked. 

"Did you get it from _him?_" Preston asked fiercely. 

"What?" said I, opening my eyes. 

"Your nonsense. Has he taught you to turn Abolitionist?"

"I have not _turned_ at all, " I said. "I wish you would. It isonly the people who are in the wrong that ought to turn. "

"Daisy, " said Preston, "you ought never to be away from auntFelicia and my uncle. Nobody else can manage you. I don't knowwhat you will become or what you will do, before they getback. "

I was silent; and Preston, I suppose, cooled down. He waitedawhile, and then again begged that I would kiss and befriends. "You see, I am going away to- morrow morning, littleDaisy. "

"I wish you had gone two days ago, " I said. 

And my mind did not change, even when the morning came. 

CHAPTER V. 

IN THE KITCHEN. 

I was ill for days. It was not due to one thing, doubtless, nor one sorrow; but the whole together. My aunt sent toBaytown for the old family physician. He came up and looked atme; and decided that I ought to "play" as much as possible!

"She isn't a child that likes play, " said my aunt. 

"Find some play that she does like, then. Where are her fatherand mother?"

"Just sailed for Europe, a few weeks ago. "

"The best thing would be, for her, to sail after them, " saidthe old doctor. And he went. 

"We shall have to let her do just as they did at Melbourne, "said my aunt. 

"How was that?" said Miss Pinshon. 

"Let her have just her own way. "

"And what was that ?"

"Oh, queer, " said my aunt. "She is not like other children. But anything is better than to have her mope to death. "

"I shall try and not have her mope, " said Miss Pinshon. 

But she had little chance to adopt her reforming regimen forsome time. It was plain I was not fit for anything but to belet alone; like a weak plant struggling for its existence. Allyou can do with it is to put it in the sun; and my aunt andgoverness tacitly agreed upon the same plan of treatment forme. Now the only thing wanting was sunshine; and it was longbefore that could be had. After a day or two I left my bed, and crept about the house, and out of the house under thegreat oaks; where the material sunshine was warm and brightenough, and caught itself in the grey wreaths of moss thatwaved over my head, and seemed to come bodily to woo me tolife and cheer. It lay in the carpet under my feet; itlingered in the leaves of the thick oaks; it wantoned in thewind, as the long draperies of moss swung and moved gently toand fro; but the very sunshine is cold where the ice meets it;I could get no comfort. The thoughts that had so troubled methe evening after my long talk with Preston, were alwayspresent with me; they went out and came in with me; I sleptwith them, and they met me when I woke. The sight of theservants was wearying. I shunned Darry and the stables. I hadno heart for my pony. I would have liked to get away fromMagnolia. Yet, be I where I might, it would not alter myfather's position towards these seven hundred people. Andtowards how many more? There were his estates in Virginia. 

One of the first things I did, as soon as I could command myfingers to do it, was to write to him. Not a remonstrance. Iknew better than to touch that. All I ventured, was to implorethat the people who desired it might be allowed to holdprayer-meetings whenever they liked, and Mr. Edwards beforbidden to interfere. Also I complained that the inside ofthe cabins was not comfortable; that they were bare and empty. I pleaded for a little bettering of them. It was not a longletter that I wrote. My sorrow I could not tell, and my loveand my longing were equally beyond the region of words. Ifancy it would have I been thought by Miss Pinshon a very coldlittle epistle; but Miss Pinshon did not see it. I wrote itwith weak trembling fingers, and closed it and sealed it andsent it myself. Then I sank into a helpless, careless, listless state of body and mind, which was very bad for me;and there was no physician who could minister to me. I wentwandering about, mostly out of doors, alone with myself and mysorrow. When I seemed a little stronger than usual, MissPinshon tried the multiplication table; and I tried; but thespring of my mind was for the time broken. All such trialscame to an end in such weakness and weariness, that mygoverness herself was fain to take the book from my hands andsend me out into the sunshine again. 

It was Darry at last who found me one day, and, distressed atmy looks, begged that I would let him bring up my pony. He wasso earnest that I yielded. I got leave, and went to ride. Darry saddled another horse for himself and went with me. Thatfirst ride did not help me much; but the second time, a littletide of life began to steal into my veins. Darry encouragedand instructed me; and when we came, cantering up to the doorof the house, my aunt who was watching there, cried out that Ihad a bit of a tinge in my cheeks; and charged Darry to bringthe horses up every day. 

With a little bodily vigour a little strength of mind seemedto come; a little more power of bearing up against evils, orof quietly standing under them. After the third time I went toride, having come home refreshed, I took my Bible and sat downon the rug before the fire in my room to read. I had not beenable to get comfort in my Bible all those days; often I hadnot liked to try. Right and wrong never met me in morebrilliant colours or startling shadows than within the coversof that book. But to-day, soothed somehow, I went along withthe familiar words as one listens to old music, with thesoothing process going on all along. Right _was_ right, andglorious, and would prevail some time; and nothing couldhinder it. And then I came to words which I knew, yet whichhad never taken such hold of me before. 

"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see yourgood works and glorify your Father which is in heaven. "

"_That_ is what I have to do!" I thought immediately. "That ismy part. That is clear. What _I_ have to do, is to let my lightshine. And if the light shines, perhaps it will fall onsomething. But what I have to do, is to shine. God has givenme nothing else. "

It was a very simple, child's thought; but it broughtwonderful comfort with it. Doubtless, I would have likedanother part to play. I would have liked — if I could — tohave righted all the wrong in the world; to have broken everyyoke; to have filled every empty house, and built up a fire onevery cold hearth; but that was not what God had given me. AllHe had given me, that I could see at the minute, was to shine. What a little morsel of a light mine was, to be sure!

It was a good deal of a puzzle to me for days after that, _how_I was to shine. What could I do? I was a little child; my onlyduties some lessons to learn; not much of that, seeing I hadnot strength for it. Certainly, I had sorrows to bear; butbearing them well did not seem to me to come within the sphereof _shining_. Who would know that I bore them well? And shiningis meant to be seen. I pondered the matter. 

"When's Christmas, Miss Daisy?"

Margaret asked this question one morning as she was on herknees making my fire. Christmas had been so shadowed a pointto me in the distance, I had not looked at it. I stopped tocalculate the days. 

"It will be two weeks from Friday, Margaret. "

"And Friday's to-morrow?" she asked. 

"The day after to-morrow. What do you do at Christmas, Margaret? all the people?"

"There aint no great doings, Miss Daisy. The people gets fourdays, most of 'em. "

"Four days — for what? —"

"For what they likes; they don't do no work, those days. "

"And is that all?"

"No, Miss Daisy, 'taint just all; the women comes up to thehouse — it's to the overseer's house now — and every one getsa bowl o' flour, more or less, 'cordin' to size of family —and a quart of molasses, and a piece o' pork. "

"And what do they do to make the time pleasant?" I asked. 

"Some on 'em's raised eggs and chickens; and they brings 'emto the house and sells 'em; and they has the best dinner. Mosttimes they gets leave to have a meetin'. "

"A prayer-meeting?" I said. 

"Laws, no, Miss Daisy! not 'cept it were uncle Darry and _his_set. The others don't make no count of a prayer-meetin'. Theylikes to have a white-folks' meetin' and 'joy theirselves. "

I thought very much over these statements; and for the nexttwo weeks, bowls of flour and quarts of molasses, as Christmasdoings, were mixed up in my mind with the question, how I wasto shine? or rather, alternated with it; and plans began toturn themselves over and take shape in my thoughts. 

"Margaret, " said I, a day or two before Christmas, "can't thepeople have those meetings you spoke of, without getting leaveof Mr. Edwards?"

"Can't have meetin's no how!" Margaret replied decidedly. 

"But, if _I_ wanted to see them, couldn't they, some of them, come together to see me?"

"To see Miss Daisy! Reckon Miss Daisy do what she like. 'SpectMass' Ed'ards let Miss Daisy 'lone!"

I was silent, pondering. 

"Maria cook wants to see Miss Daisy bad. She bid me tell MissDaisy won't she come down in de kitchen, and see all the worksshe's a-doin' for Christmas, and de glorifications?"

"I? I'll come if I can, " I answered. 

I asked my aunt and got easy leave; and Christmas eve I wentdown to the kitchen. That was the chosen time when Mariawished to see me. There was an assembly of servants gatheredin the room, some from out of the house. Darry was there; andone or two other fine-looking men who were his prayer-meetingfriends. I supposed they were gathered to make merry forChristmas eve; but, at any rate, they were all eager to seewe, and looked at me with smiles as gentle as have ever fallento my share. I felt it and enjoyed it. The effect was ofentering a warm, genial atmosphere, where grace and good willwere on every side; a change very noticeable from the cold andcareless habit of things up stairs. And _grace_ is not amisapplied epithet; for these children of a luxurious andbeauty-loving race, even in their bondage had not forgottenall traces of their origin. As I went in, I could not helpgiving my hand to Darry; and then, in my childish feelingtowards them and in the tenderness of the Christmas-tide, Icould not help doing the same by all the others who werepresent. And I remember now the dignity of mien in some, thefrank ease in others, both graceful and gracious, with whichmy civility was met. If a few were a little shy, the rest morethan made it up by their welcome of me and a sort ofpoliteness which had almost something courtly in it. Darry andMaria together gave me a seat, in the very centre and glow ofthe kitchen light and warmth; and the rest made a half circlearound, leaving Maria's end of the room free for heroperations. 

The kitchen was all aglow with the most splendid of fire ofpine knots it was ever my lot to see. The illumination wassuch as threw all gaslights into shade. We were in a great, stone-flagged room, low-roofed, with dark cupboard doors; notcheerful, I fancy, in the mere light of day; but nothing couldresist the influence of those pine-knot flames. Maria herselfwas a portly fat woman, as far as possible from handsome; butshe looked at me with a whole world of kindness in her darkface. Indeed, I saw the same kindness more or less shining outupon me in all the faces there. I cannot tell the mixed joyand pain that it, and they, gave me. I suppose I showed littleof either, or of anything. 

Maria entertained me with all she had. She brought out for myview her various rich and immense stores of cakes and pies anddelicacies for the coming festival; told me what was good andwhat I must be sure and eat; and what would be good for me. And then, when that display was over, she began to be verybusy with beating of eggs in a huge wooden bowl; and badeDarry see to the boiling of the kettle at the fire; and sentJem the waiter, for things he was to get up stairs; and allthe while talked to me. She and Darry and one or two moretalked, but especially she and Theresa and Jem; while all therest listened and laughed and exclaimed, and seemed to find meas entertaining as a play. Maria was asking me about my ownlittle life and experiences before I came to Magnolia; whatsort of a place Melbourne was, and how things there differedfrom the things she and the rest knew and were accustomed toat the South; and about my old June, who had once been anacquaintance of hers. Smiling at me the while, between thethrusts of her curiosity, and over my answers, as if for sheerpleasure she could not keep grave. The other faces were asinterested and as gracious. There was Pete, tall and veryblack, and very grave, as Darry was also. There was Jem, fullof life and waggishness, and bright for any exercise of hiswits; and grave shadows used to come over his changeable faceoften enough too. There was Margaret, with her sombre beauty;and old Theresa with her worn old face. I think there was acertain indescribable reserve of gravity upon them all, butthere was not one whose lips did not part in a white line whenlooking at me, nor whose eyes and ears did not watch me withan interest as benign as it was intent. I had been littlewhile seated before the kitchen fire of pine knots before Ifelt that I was in the midst of a circle of personal friends;and I feel it now, as I look back and remember them. Theywould have done much for me, every one. 

Meanwhile Maria beat and mixed and stirred the things in herwooden bowl; and by and by ladled out a glassful of rich-looking, yellow, creamy froth — I did not know what it was, only it looked beautiful — and presented it to me. 

"Miss Daisy mus' tell Mis' Felissy Maria haint forgot how tomake it — 'spect she haint, anyhow. Dat's for Miss Daisy'sChristmas. "

"It's very nice!" I said. 

"Reckon it is, " was the capable answer. 

"Won't you give everybody some, Maria?" For Jem had gone upstairs with a tray of glasses, and Maria seemed to be restingupon her labours. 

"Dere'll come down orders for mo', chile; and 'spose I givesit to de company, what'll Mis' Lisa do wid Maria? I have de'sponsibility of Christmas. "

"But you can make some more, " I said, holding my glass inwaiting. "Do, Maria. "

" 'Spose haint got de 'terials, hey?"

"What do you want? Aunt Gary will give it to you. " And Ibegged Jem to go up again and prefer my request to her for thenew filling of Maria's bowl. Jem shrugged his shoulders, buthe went; and I suppose he made a good story of it; for he camedown with whatever was wanted — my aunt Gary was in a mood torefuse me nothing then — and Maria went anew about thebusiness of beating and mixing and compounding. 

There was great enjoyment in the kitchen. It was a time ofhigh festival, what with me and the egg supper. Merriment andjocularity, a little tide-wave of social excitement, swelledand broke on all sides of me; making a soft ripply play of funand repartee, difficult to describe, and which touched me asmuch as it amused. It was very unlike the enjoyment of a setof white people holding the same social and intellectualgrade. It was the manifestation of another race, less coarseand animal in their original nature, more sensitive and moredemonstrative, with a strange touch of the luxurious andrefined, for a people whose life has had nothing to do withluxury and whom refinement leaves on one side as quite beyondits sphere. But blood is a strange thing; and Ham's childrenwill show luxurious and aesthetic tastes, take them where youwill. 

"Chillen, I hope you's enjoyed your supper, " Maria said, whenthe last lingering drops had been secured, and mugs andglasses were coming back to the kitchen table. 

Words and smiles answered her. "We's had a splendid time, auntMaria, " said one young man as he set down his glass. He was aworker in the garden. 

"Den I hope we's all willin' to gib de Lord t'anks for hisgoodness. Dere aint a night in de year when it's so proper togib de Lord t'anks, as it be dis precious night. "

"It's to-morrow night, aunt Maria, " said Pete. "To-morrow'sChristmas night. "

"I don't care! One night's jus' as good as another, you Pete. And now we's all together, you see, and comfortable together;and I feel like giving t'anks, I do, to de Lord, for all hismercies. "

"What's Christmas, anyhow?" asked another. 

"It's jus' de crown o' all de nights in de year. You Solomon, it's a night dat dey keeps up in heaven. You know nothin'about it, you poor critter. I done believe you never hearn noone tell about it. Maybe Miss Daisy wouldn't read us de story, and de angels, and de shepherds, and dat great light what comedown, and make us feel good for Christmas; and uncle Darry, he'll t'ank de Lord. "

The last words Were put in a half-questioning form to me, rather taking for granted that I would readily do what wasrequested. And hardly anything the world, I suppose, couldhave given me such deep gratification at the moment. Margaretwas sent up stairs to fetch my Bible; the circle closed inaround the fire and me; a circle of listening, waiting, eager, interested faces; some few of them shone with pleasure or grewgrave with reverent love, while, I read slowly the chaptersthat tell of the first Christmas night. I read them from allthe gospels; picking the story out first in one, then inanother; answered sometimes by low words of praise that echoedbut did not interrupt me; — words that were but some droppednotes of the song that began that night in heaven, and hasbeen running along the ages since, and is swelling and willswell into a great chorus of earth and heaven, by and by. Andhow glad I was in the words of the story myself, as I wentalong. How heart-glad that here, in this region of riches andhopes not earthly, those around me had as good welcome and asopen entrance, and as free right as I. "There is neither bondnor free. " "And base things of this world, and things whichare despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are. "

I finished my reading at last, amid the hush of my listeningaudience. Then Maria called upon Darry to pray, and we allkneeled down. 

It comes back to me now as I write — the hush, and thebreathing of the fire, and Darry's low voice and imperfectEnglish. Yes, and the incoming tide of rest and peace andgladness which began to fill the dry places in my heart, androse and swelled till my heart was full. I lost my troublesand forgot my difficulties. I forgot that my father and motherwere away, for the sense of loneliness was gone. I forgot thatthose around me were in bonds, for I felt them free as I, andinheritors of the same kingdom. I have not often in my lifelistened to such a prayer, unless from the same lips. He wasone of those that make you feel that the door is open to theirknocking, and that they always find it so. His words wereseconded — not interrupted, even to my feeling — by low-breathed echoes of praise and petition; too soft and deep toleave any doubt of the movement that called them forth. 

There was a quiet gravity upon the company when we rose to ourfeet again. I knew I must go; but the kitchen had been thepleasantest place to me in all Magnolia. I bade them goodnight, answered with bows and curtseys and hearty wishes; andas I passed out of the circle, tall black Pete, looking downupon me with just a glimmer of white between his lips, added, "Hope you'll come again. "

A thought darted into my head which brought sunshine with it. I seemed to see my way begin to open. 

The hope was warm at my heart as soon as I was awake the nextmorning. With more comfort than for many days I had known, Ilay and watched Margaret making my fire. Then suddenly Iremembered it was Christmas, and what thanksgivings had beenin heaven about it, and what should be on earth; and alingering of the notes of praise I had heard last night made asort of still music in the air. But I did not expect at allthat any of the ordinary Christmas festivities would come hometo me, seeing that my father and mother were away. Whereshould Christmas festivities come from? So, when Margaret roseup and showed all her teeth at me, I only thought last nighthad given her pleasure; and I suspected nothing, even when shestepped into the next room and brought in a little tablecovered with a shawl, and set it close by my bedside. "Am I tohave breakfast in bed?" I asked. "What is this for?"

"Dunno, Miss Daisy, " said Margaret, with all her white teethsparkling; — 'spose Miss Daisy take just a look, and see what'pears like. "

I felt the colour come into my face. I raised myself on myelbow and lifted up cautiously one corner of the shawl. Packages — white paper and brown paper — long and short, largeand small! "O Margaret, take off the shawl, won't you!" Icried; — "and let me see what is here. "

There was a good deal. But "From papa" caught my eye on alittle parcel. I seized it and unfolded. From papa, and he sofar away! But I guessed the riddle before I could get to thelast of the folds of paper that wrapped and enwrapped a littlemorocco case. Papa and mamma, leaving me alone, had madeprovision beforehand, that when this time came I might missnothing except themselves. They had thought and cared andarranged for me; and now they were thinking about it, perhaps, far away somewhere over the sea. I held the morocco case in myhand a minute or two before I could open it. Then I found alittle watch; my dear little watch! which has gone with meever since, and never failed nor played tricks with me. Mymother had put in one of her own chains for me to wear withit. 

I lay a long time looking and thinking, raised up on my elbowas I was, before I could leave the watch and go on to anythingelse. Margaret spread round my shoulders the shawl which hadcovered the Christmas table; and then she stood waiting, witha good deal more impatience and curiosity than I showed. Butsuch a world of pleasure and pain gathered round that first"bit of Christmas" — so many, many thoughts of one and theother kind — that I for awhile had enough with that. At last Iclosed the case, and keeping it yet in one hand, used theother to make more discoveries. The package labelled "Frommamma, " took my attention next; but I could make nothing ofit. An elegant little box, that was all, which I could notopen; only it felt so very heavy that I was persuaded theremust be something extraordinary inside. I could make nothingof it; it was a beautiful box; that was all. Preston hadbrought me a little riding whip; both costly and elegant. Icould not but be much pleased with it. A large, rather softpackage marked with aunt Gary's name, unfolded a riding cap tomatch; at least it was exceeding rich and stylish, with ablack feather that waved away in curves that called forthMargaret's delighted admiration. Nevertheless, I wondered, while I admired, at my aunt Gary's choice of a present. I hada straw hat which served all purposes, even of elegance, formy notions. I was amazed to find that Miss Pinshon had notforgotten me. There was a decorated pen, wreathed with a cordof crimson and gold twist, and supplemented with two danglingtassels. It was excessively pretty, as I thought of auntGary's cap; and _not_ equally convenient. I looked at all thesethings while Margaret was dressing me; but the case with thewatch, for the most part, I remember I kept in my hand. 

"Aint you goin' to try it on and see some how pretty it looks, Miss Daisy?" said my unsatisfied attendant. 

"The cap?" said I. "Oh, I dare say it fits. Aunt Gary knowshow big my head is. "

"Mass' Preston come last night, " she went on; "so I reckonMiss Daisy'll want to wear it by and by. "

"Preston come last night!" I said. "After I was in bed?" — andfeeling that it was indeed Christmas, I finished getting readyand went down stairs. I made up my mind I might as well befriends with Preston, and not push any further my displeasureat his behaviour. So we had a comfortable breakfast. My auntwas pleased to see me, she said, look so much better. MissPinshon was not given to expressing what she felt; but shelooked at me two or three times without saying anything, whichI suppose meant satisfaction. Preston was in high feather;making all sorts of plans for my divertisement during the nextfew days. I for my part had my own secret cherished plan, which made my heart beat quicker whenever I thought of it. ButI wanted somebody's counsel and help; and on the whole Ithought my aunt Gary's would be the safest. So after breakfastI consulted Preston only about my mysterious little box, whichwould not open. Was it a paper weight?

Preston smiled, took up the box and performed some conjurationupon it, and then — I cannot describe my entranced delight —as he set it down again on the table, the room seemed to growmusical. Softest, most liquid sweet notes came pouring forthone after the other, binding my ears as if I had been in astate of enchantment. Binding feet and hands and almost mybreath, as I stood hushed and listening to the liquid warblingof delicious things, until the melody had run itself out. Itwas a melody unknown to me; wild and dainty; it came out of afamous opera I was told afterward. When the fairy notes sunkinto silence, I turned mutely towards Preston. Prestonlaughed. 

"I declare!" he said, — "I declare! Hurra! you have got colourin your cheeks, Daisy; absolutely, my little Daisy! there is areal streak of pink there where it was so white before. "

"_What_ is it?" said I. 

"Just a little good blood coming up under the skin. "

"Oh, no, Preston — _this_; what is it?"

"A musical box. "

"But where does the music come from?"

"Out of the box. See, Daisy; when it has done a tune and isrun out, you must wind it up, so, — like a watch. "

He wound it up and set it on the table again. And again amelody came forth, and this time it was different; notplaintive and thoughtful, but jocund and glad; a little shoutand ring of merriment, like the feet of dancers scattering thedrops of dew in a bright morning; or like the chime of athousand little silver bells rung for laughter. A sort ofintoxication came into my heart. When Preston would have woundup the box again, I stopped him. I was full of the delight. Icould not hear any mote just then. 

"Why, Daisy, there are ever so many more tunes. "

"Yes. I am glad. I will have them another time, " I answered. "How very kind of mamma!"

"Hit the right thing this time, didn't she? How's the ridingcap, Daisy?"

"It is very nice, " I said. "Aunt Gary is very good; and I likethe whip very much, Preston. "

"That fat little rascal will want it. Does the cap fit, Daisy?"

"I don't know, " I said. "Oh, yes, I suppose so. "

Preston made an exclamation, and forthwith would have it triedon to see how it looked. It satisfied him; somehow it did notplease me as well; but the ride did, which we had soon after;and I found that my black feather certainly suited everybodyelse. Darry smiled at me, and the house servants were exultantover my appearance. 

Amid all these distracting pleasures, I kept on the watch foran opportunity to speak to aunt Gary alone. Christmas day Icould not. I could not get it till near the end of the nextday. 

"Aunt Gary, " I said, "I want to consult you about something. "

"You have always something turning about in your head, " — washer answer. 

"Do you think, " said I slowly, "Mr. Edwards would have anyobjection to some of the people coming to the kitchen Sundayevenings to hear me read the Bible?"

"To hear _you_ read the Bible!" said my aunt. 

"Yes, aunt Gary; I think they would like it. You know theycannot read it for themselves. "

"_They_ would like it. And you would be delighted, wouldn'tyou?"

"Yes, aunt Gary. I should like it better than anything. "

"You are a funny child! There is not a bit of your mother inyou — except your obstinacy. "

And my aunt seemed to ponder my difference. 

"Would Mr. Edwards object to it, do you think? Would he letthem come?"

"The question is, whether I will let them come. Mr. Edwardshas no business with what is done in the house. "

"But, aunt Gary, you would not have any objection. "

"I don't know, I am sure. I wish your father and mother hadnever left you in my charge; for I don't know how to take careof you. "

"Aunt Gary, " I said, "please don't object! There is nobody toread the Bible to them — and I should like to do it verymuch. "

"Yes, I see you would. There — don't get excited about it —every Sunday evening, did you say?"

"Yes, ma'am — if you please. "

"Daisy, it will just tire you; that's what it will do. I knowit, just as well as if I had seen it. You are not strongenough. "

"I am sure it would refresh me, aunt Gary. It did the othernight. "

"The other night?"

"Christmas eve, ma'am. "

"Did you read to them then?"

"Yes, ma'am; they wanted to know what Christmas was about. "

"And you read to them. You are the oddest child!"

"But, aunt Gary, never mind, — it would be the greatestpleasure to me. Won't you give leave?"

"The servants hear the Bible read, child, every morning andevery night. "

"Yes, but that is only a very few of the house servants. Iwant some of the others to come — a good many, — as many ascan come. "

"I wish your mother and father were here, " sighed my aunt. 

"Do you think Mr. Edwards would make any objection?" I askedagain, presuming on the main question being carried. "Would helet them come?"

"Let them!" echoed my aunt. "Mr. Edwards would be wellemployed, to interfere with anything the family choose to do. "

"But you know he does not let them meet together, the people, aunt Gary; not unless they have his permission. "

"No, I suppose so. That is his business. "

"Then will you speak to him, ma'am, so that he may not beangry with the people when they come?"

"I? No, " said my aunt. "I have nothing to do with yourfather's overseer. It would just make difficulty maybe, Daisy;you had better let this scheme of yours alone. "

I could not, without bitter disappointment. Yet I did not knowhow further to press the matter. I sat still and said nothing. 

"I declare, if she isn't growing pale about it!" exclaimed myaunt. "I know one thing, and that is, your father and motherought to have taken you along with them. I have not the leastidea how to manage you; not the least. What is it you want todo, Daisy?"

I explained, over again. 

"And now if you cannot have this trick of your fancy you willjust fidget yourself sick! I see it. Just as you went drivingall about Melbourne without company to take care of you. I amsure I don't know. It is not in my way to meddle withoverseers — How many people do you want to read to at once, Daisy?"

"As many as I can, aunt Gary. But Mr. Edwards will not let twoor three meet together anywhere. "

"Well, I dare say he is right. You can't believe anything inthe world these people tell you, child. They will lie just asfast as they will speak. "

"But if they came to see _me_, aunt Gary?" I persisted, waivingthe other question. 

"That's another thing, of course. Well, don't worry. CallPreston. Why children cannot be children, passes mycomprehension!"

Preston came, and there was a good deal of discussing of myplan; at which Preston frowned and whistled, but on the whole, though I knew against his will, took my part. The end was, myaunt sent for the overseer. She had some difficulty, I judge, in carrying the point; and made capital of my ill-health anddelicacy and spoiled-child character. The overseer's unwillingconsent was gained at last; the conditions being, that everyone who came to hear the reading should have a ticket ofleave, written and signed by myself, for each evening; andthat I should be present with the assembly from the beginningto the close of it. 

My delight was very great. And my aunt, grumbling at the wholematter and especially at her share in it, found an additionalcause of grumbling in that, she said, I had looked twenty percent. Better ever since this foolish thing got possession ofmy head. "I am wondering, " she remarked to Miss Pinshon, "whatever Daisy will do when she grows up. I expect nothingbut she will be — what do you call them? — one of those peoplewho run wild over the human race. "

"Pirates?" suggested Preston. "Or corsairs?"

"Her mother will be disappointed, " went on my aunt. "That iswhat I confidently expect. "

Miss Pinshon hinted something about the corrective qualitiesof mathematics; but I was too happy to heed her or care. I wasstronger and better, I believe, from that day; though I hadnot much to boast of. A true tonic had been administered tome; my fainting energies took a new start. 

I watched my opportunity, and went down to the kitchen oneevening to make my preparations. I found Maria alone andsitting in state before the fire — which I believe was alwaysin the kitchen a regal one. I hardly ever saw it anythingelse. She welcomed me with great suavity; drew up a chair forme; and finding I had something to say, sat then quite graveand still looking into the blaze, while I unfolded my plan. 

"De Lord is bery good!" was her subdued comment, made when Ihad done. "He hab sent His angel, sure!"

"Now, Maria, " I went on, "you must tell me who would like tocome next Sundays, you think; and I must make tickets forthem. Every one must have my ticket, with his name on it; andthen there will be no fault found. "

"I s'pose not, " said Maria, — "wid Miss Daisy's name on it. "

"Who will come, Maria?"

"Laws, chile, dere's heaps. Dere's Darry, and Pete — Pete, hesay de meetin' de oder night war 'bout de best meetin' he eber'tended; he wouldn't miss it for not'ing in de world; he'ssure; and dere's ole 'Lize; and de two Jems — no, dere's _tree_Jems dat is ser'ous; and Stark, and Carl and Sharlim —"

"_Sharlim?_" said I, not knowing that this was the Caffir forCharlemagne. 

"Sharlim, " Maria repeated. "He don' know much; but he has aleanin' for de good t'ings. And Darry, he can tell who'llcome. I done forget all de folks' names. "

"Why, Maria, " I said, "I did not know there were so manypeople at Magnolia that cared about the Bible. "

"What has 'um to care for, chile, I should like fur to know. Dere aint much mo' in _dis_ world. "

"But I thought there were only very few, " I said. 

" 'Spose um fifty, " said Maria. "Fifty aint much, I reckon, when dere's all de rest o' de folks what _don't_ care. De Lord'speople is a little people yet, for sure; and de world's a bigplace. When de Lord come Hisself, to look for 'em, 'spect Hehave to look mighty hard. De world's awful dark. "

That brought to my mind my question. It was odd, no doubt, tochoose an old coloured woman for my adviser; but indeed I hadnot much choice; and something had given me a confidence inMaria's practical wisdom, which early as it had been formed, nothing ever happened to shake. So, after considering thefire and the matter a moment, I brought forth my doubt. 

"Maria, " said I, "what is the best way — I mean, how can onelet one's light shine?"

"What Miss Daisy talkin' about?"

"I mean, — you know what the Bible says — 'Let your light soshine before men, that they may see your good works andglorify your Father which is in heaven'?"

"For sure, I knows dat. Aint much shinin' in dese yere parts. De people is dark, Miss Daisy; dey don' know. 'Spect dey wouldtry to shine, some on 'em, ef dey knowed. Feel sure deywould. "

"But that is what I wanted to ask about, Maria. How ought oneto let one's light shine?"

I remember now the kind of surveying look the woman gave me. Ido not know what she was thinking of; but she looked at me, upand down, for a moment, with a wonderfully tender, softexpression. Then turned away. 

"How let um light shine?" she repeated. "De bestest way, MissDaisy, is fur to make him burn good. "

I saw it all immediately; my question never puzzled me again. Take care that the lamp is trimmed; take care that it is fullof oil; see that the flame mounts clear and steady towardsheaven; and the Lord will set it where its light will fall onwhat pleases Him, and where it will reach mayhap, to what younever dream of. 

CHAPTER VI. 

WINTER AND SUMMER. 

From the Christmas holidays, I think I began slowly to mend. My aunt watched me, and grumbled that kitchen amusements andrides with Darry should prove the medicines most healing andeffectual; but she dared stop neither of them. I believe theoverseer remonstrated on the danger of the night gatherings;but my aunt Gary had her answer ready, and warned him not todo anything to hinder me, for I was the apple of my father'seye. Miss Pinshon, sharing to the full my aunt's discontent, would have got on horseback, I verily believe, to be with mein my rides; but she was no rider. The sound of a horse's fourfeet always, she confessed, stamped the courage out of herheart. I was let alone; and the Sunday evenings in thekitchen, and the bright morning hours in the pine avenues andoak groves, were my refreshment and my pleasure, and mystrength. 

What there was of it; for I had not much strength to boast formany a day. Miss Pinshon tried her favorite recipe whenevershe thought she saw a chance, and I did my best with it. Butmy education that winter was quite in another line. I couldnot bear much arithmetic. Bending over a desk did not agreewith me. Reading aloud to Miss Pinshon never lasted for morethan a little while at a time. So it comes, that myremembrance of that winter is not filled with schoolexercises, and that Miss Pinshon's figure plays but asubordinate part in its pictures. Instead of that, my memorybrings back first and chiefest of all, the circle of darkfaces round the kitchen light wood fire, and the yellow blazeon the page from which I read; I a little figure in white, sitting in the midst among them all. That picture — thoseevenings — come back to me, with a kind of hallowed perfume oftruth and hope. Truth, it was in my lips and on my heart; Iwas giving it out to those who had it not. And hope, — it wasin more hearts than mine, no doubt; but in mine it beat withas steady a beat as the tickings of my little watch by myside, and breathed sweet as the flowers that start in springfrom under the snow. I had often a large circle; and it waspart of my plan, and well carried into execution, that theseevenings of reading should supply also the place of themissing prayer-meeting. Gradually I drew it on to be sounderstood; and then my pieces of reading were scattered alongbetween the prayers, or sometimes all came at first, followedby two or three earnest longer prayers from some of those thatwere present. And then, without any planning of mine, came inthe singing. Not too much, lest as Maria said, we should "makede folks up stairs t'ink dere war somethin' oncommon in dekitchen;" but one or two hymns we would have, so full ofspirit and sweetness that often now-a-days they come back tome, and I would give very much to hear the like again. So fullof music too. Voices untrained by art, but gifted by nature;melodious and powerful; that took different parts in the tune, and carried them through without the jar of a false note or afalse quantity; and a love both of song and of the truth whichmade the music mighty. It was the greatest delight to me, thatsinging, whether I joined them or only listened. One, — thethought of it comes over me now and brings the water to myeyes, —

"Am I a soldier of the cross —Of the cross —Of he cross —A follower of the Lamb;And shall I fear to own his cause, Own his cause —Own his cause, —Or blush to speak His name?"

The repetitions at the end of every other line were: bothplaintive and strong; there was no weakness, but somerecognition of what it costs in certain circumstances to "ownHis cause. " I loved that dearly. But that was only one ofmany. 

Also the Bible words were wonderful sweet to me, as I wasgiving them out to those who else had a "famine of the word. "Bread to the hungry, is quite another thing from bread on thetables of the full. 

The winter had worn well on, before I received the answer tothe letter I had written my father about the prayer-meetingsand Mr. Edwards. It was a short answer, not in terms but inactual extent; showing that my father was not strong and wellyet. It was very kind and tender, as well as short; I feltthat in every word. In substance, however, it told me I hadbetter let Mr. Edwards alone. He knew what he ought to do, about the prayer-meetings and about other things; and theywere what I could not judge about. So my letter said. It saidtoo, that things seemed strange to me because I was unused tothem; and that when I had lived longer at the South they wouldcease to be strange, and I would understand them and look uponthem as every one else did. 

I studied and pondered this letter; not greatly disappointed, for I had had but slender hopes that my petition could workanything. Yet I had a disappointment to get over. The firstpractical use I made of my letter, I went where I could bealone with it — indeed, I was that when I read it, — but Iwent to a solitary lonely place, where I could not beinterrupted; and there I knelt down and prayed, that howeverlong I might live at the South, I might never get to look uponevil as anything but evil, nor ever become accustomed to thethings I thought ought not to be, so as not to feel them. Ishall never forget that half hour. It broke my heart that myfather and I should look on such matters with so differenteyes; and with my prayer for myself, which came from the verybottom of my heart, I poured out also a flood of love andtears over him, and of petition that he might have bettereyesight one day. Ah yes! and before it should be too late toright the wrong he was unconsciously doing. 

For now I began to see, in the light of this letter first, that my father's eyes were not clear but blind in regard tothese matters. And what he said about me led me to think andbelieve that his blindness was the effect, not of anyparticular hardness or fault in him, but of long teaching andhabit and custom. For I saw that everybody else around meseemed to take the present condition of things as the true andbest one; only convenient, but natural and proper. Everybody, that is, who did not suffer by it. I had more than suspicionsthat the seven hundred on the estate were of a different mindhere from the half dozen who lived in the mansion; and thatthe same relative difference existed on the other plantationsin the neighbourhood. We made visits occasionally, and thevisits were returned. I was not shut out from them, and so hadsome chance to observe things within a circle of twenty miles. Our "neighbourhood" reached so far. And child as I was, Icould not help seeing; and I could not help looking, halfunconsciously, for signs of what lay so close on my heart. 

My father's letter thus held some material of comfort for me, although it refused my request. Papa would not overset theoverseer's decision about the prayer-meetings. It heldsomething else. There was a little scrap of a note to auntGary, saying, in the form of an order, that Daisy was to haveten dollars paid to her every quarter; that Mrs. Gary wouldsee it done; and would further see that Daisy was not calledupon, by anybody, at any time, to give any account whatever ofher way of spending the same. 

How I thanked papa for this! How I knew the tender affectionand knowledge of me which had prompted it. How well Iunderstood what it was meant to do. I had a little privateenjoyment of aunt Gary's disconsolate face and grudging handsas she bestowed upon me the first ten dollars. It was not thatshe loved money so well, but she thought this was another formof my father's unwise indulging and spoiling of me; and that Iwas spoiled already. But I — I saw in vision a large harvestof joy, to be raised from this small seed crop. 

At first I thought I must lay out a few shillings of my stockupon a nice purse to keep the whole in. I put the purse downat the head of the list of things I was making out, forpurchase, the first time I should go to Baytown, or have anygood chance of sending. I had a good deal of considerationwhether I would have a purse or a pocket-book. Then I had anodd secret pleasure in my diplomatic way of finding out fromDarry and Maria and Margaret what were the wants most pressingof the sick and the old among the people; or of theindustrious and the enterprising. Getting Darry to talk to mein my rides, by degrees I came to know the stories andcharacters of many of the hands; I picked up hints of a wantor a desire here and there, which Darry thought there was nohuman means of meeting, or gratifying. Then, the next time Ihad a chance, I brought up these persons and cases to Maria, and supplemented Darry's hints with her information. Or Iattacked Margaret when she was making my fire, and drew fromher what she knew about the persons in whom I was interested. So I learned — and put it down in my notebook accordingly —that Pete could spell out words a little bit, and would likemainly to read; if only he had a Testament in large type. Hecould not manage little print; it bothered him. Also Ilearned, that aunt Sarah, a middle-aged woman who worked inthe fields, "wanted terrible to come to de Sabbas meetin's, but she war' shamed to come, 'cause her feet was mos' half outof her shoes; and Mr. Ed'ards wouldn't give her no more tillde time come roun'. " Sarah had "been and gone and done stuckher feet in de fire, for to warm 'em, one time when dey wasmighty cold; and she burn her shoes. Learn her better nexttime. "

"But does she work every day in the field with her feet onlyhalf covered?" I asked. 

"Laws! she don't care, " said Maria. "Taint no use give demdarkies not'ing; dey not know how to keep' um. "

But this was not Maria's real opinion, I knew. There was oftena strange sort of seeming hard edge of feeling put forth, which I learned to know pointed a deep, deep, maybe only half-conscious irony, and was in reality a bitter comment uponfacts. So a pair of new shoes for Sarah went down in my listwith a large print Testament for Pete. Then I found that someof the people, some of the old ones, who in youth had beenaccustomed to it, liked nothing so well as tea; it wasambrosia and Lethe mingled; and a packet of tea was put in mylist next to the Testament. But the tea must have sugar; and Icould not bear that they should drink it out of mugs, withoutany teaspoons; so to please myself I sent for a little delfware and a few pewter spoons. Little by little my list grew. Ifound that Darry knew something about letters; could write abit; and would prize the means of writing as a very raretreasure and pleasure. And with fingers that almost trembledwith delight, I wrote down paper and pens and a bottle of inkfor Darry. Next, I heard of an old woman at the quarters, whowas ailing and infirm, and I am afraid ill-treated, who at allevents was in need of comfort, and had nothing but straw andthe floor to rest her poor bones on at night. A soft palletfor her went down instantly on my list; my ink and tearsmingling together as I wrote; and I soon found that my pursemust be cut off from the head of my list for that time. Inever ventured to put it at the head again; nor found a chanceto put it in anywhere else. I spent four winters at Magnoliaafter that; and never had a new purse all the time. 

I had to wait awhile for an opportunity to make my purchases;then had the best in the world, for Darry was sent to Baytownon business. To him I confided my list and my money, with mymind on the matter; and I was served to a point and withabsolute secrecy. For that I had insisted on. Darry and Mariawere in my counsels, of course; but the rest of the poorpeople knew only by guess who their friend was. Old Sarahfound her new shoes in her hut one evening, and in her noisydelight declared that "some big angel had come t'rough dequarters. " The cups and saucers it was necessary to own, lestmore talk should have been made about them than at all suitedme; Darry let it be understood that nothing must be said andnobody must know of the matter; and nobody did; but I took thegreatest enjoyment in hearing from Maria how the old women(and one or two men) gathered together and were comforted overtheir cups of tea. And over the _cups_, Maria said: the cupsand spoons made the tea twice as good; but I doubt theirrelish of it was never half so exquisite as mine. I had togive Pete his Testament; he would not think it the same thingif he did not have it from my own hand, Maria said; andDarry's pens and ink likewise. The poor woman for whom I hadgot the bed, was, I fear, beyond enjoying anything; but it wasa comfort to me to know that she was lying on it. The peoplekept my secret perfectly; my aunt and governess never, Ibelieve, heard anything of all these doings; I had myenjoyment to myself. 

And the Sunday evening prayer-meeting grew. Little by little. Old Sarah and her new shoes were there of course, at once. Those who first came never failed. And week by week, as I wentinto the kitchen with my Bible, I saw a larger circle; foundthe room better lined with dark forms and sable faces. Theycome up before me now as I write, one and another. I lovedthem all. I love them still, for I look to meet many of themin glory; "where there is neither bond nor free. " Nay, that is_here_ and at present, to all who are in Christ; we do not waitfor heaven, to be all one. 

And they loved me, those poor people. I think Pete hadsomething the same sort of notion about me that thoseEphesians had of their image of Diana, which they insisted hadfallen from heaven. I used to feel it then, and be amused byit. 

But I am too long about my story. No wonder I linger, when theremembrance is so sweet. With this new interest that had comeinto my life, my whole life brightened. I was no longerspiritless. My strength little by little returned. And withthe relief of my heart about my father, my happiness sprungback almost to its former and usual state when I was atMelbourne. For I had by this time submitted to my father's andmother's absence as a thing of necessity, and submittedentirely. Yet my happiness was a subdued sort of thing; and myaunt Gary still thought it necessary to be as careful of me, she said, "as if I were an egg-shell. " As I grew stronger, Miss Pinshon made more and more demands upon my time with herarithmetic lessons, and other things; but my rides with Darrywere never interfered with, nor my Sunday evening readings;and indeed all the winter I continued too delicate and feeblefor much school work. My dreaded governess did not have nearso much to do with me as I thought she would. 

The spring was not far advanced before it was necessary for usto quit Magnolia. The climate after a certain day, or ratherthe air, was not thought safe for white people. We leftMagnolia; and went first to Baytown and then to the North. There our time was spent between one and another of severalwatering-places. I longed for Melbourne; but the house wasshut up; we could not go there. The summer was very wearisometo me. I did not like the houses in which our time was spent, or the way of life led in them. Neither did Miss Pinshon, Ithink; for she was out of her element, and had no chance tofollow her peculiar vocation. Of course, in a public hotel, wecould not have a schoolroom; and with the coming on of warmweather my strength failed again, so sensibly, that all therewas to do was to give me sea air and bathing, and let mealone. The bathing I enjoyed; those curling salt wavesbreaking over my head, are the one image of anything fresh orrefreshing which my memory has kept. I should have liked thebeach; I did like it; only it was covered with bathers, orelse with promenaders in carriages and on foot, at all timeswhen I saw it; and though they were amusing, the beach wasspoiled. The hotel rooms were close and hot; I missed all thedainty freedom and purity of my own home; the people I sawwere, it seemed to me, entirely in keeping with the rooms;that is, they were stiff and fussy, not quiet and busy. Theywere busy after their own fashion indeed; but it always seemedto me, busy about nothing. The children I saw, too, did notattract me; and I fear I did not attract them. I was sober-hearted and low-toned in spirits and strength; while they wereas gay as their elders. And I was dressed according to mymother's fancy, in childlike style, without hoops, and with myhair cropped short all over my head. They were stately withcrinoline, and rich with embroidery, stiff with fine dressesand plumes; while a white frock and a flat straw were all myadornment, except a sash. I think they did not know what tomake of me; and I am sure I had nothing in common with them;so we lived very much apart. There was a little variation inmy way of life when Preston came; yet not much. He took mesometimes to drive, and did once go walking with me oil thebeach; but Preston found a great deal where I found nothing, and was all the time taken up with people and pleasures;boating and yachting and fishing expeditions; and I believewith hops and balls too. But I was always fast asleep at thosetimes. 

It was a relief to me when the season came to an end, and wewent to New York to make purchases before turning southward. Ihad once hoped, that this time, the year's end, might see myfather and mother come home again. That hope had faded anddied a natural death a long while ago. Letters spoke myfather's health not restored; he was languid and spiritlessand lacked vigour; he would try the air of Switzerland; liewould spend the winter in the Pyrenιes! If that did not workwell, my mother hinted, perhaps he would have to try theeffect of a long sea voyage. Hope shrunk into such smalldimensions that it filled but a very little corner of myheart. Indeed, for the present I quite put it by and did notlook at it. One winter more must pass, at any rate, and maybea full year, before I could possibly see my father and motherat home. I locked the door for the present upon hope; andturned my thoughts to what things I had left with me. Chiefestof all theses were my poor friends at Magnolia. My money hadaccumulated during the summer; I had a nice little sum to layout for them, and in New York I had chance to do it well, andto do it myself; which was a great additional pleasure. As Icould, bit by bit, when I was with aunt Gary shopping, when Icould get leave to go out alone with a careful servant toattend me, I searched the shops and catered and bought, forthe comfort and pleasure of — seven hundred! I could dolittle. Nay, but it was for so many of those as I could reachwith my weak hands; and I did not despise that good because Icould not reach them all. A few more large print Testaments Ilaid in; some copies of the Gospel of John, in soft covers andgood type; a few hymn books. All these cost little. But forChristmas gifts, and for new things to give help and comfortto my poor pensioners, I both plagued and bewitched my brain. It was sweet work. My heart went out towards making all thepeople happy for once, at Christmas; but my purse would notstretch so far; I had to let that go, with a thought and asigh. 

One new thing came very happily into my head, and was worth aPeruvian mine to me, in the pleasure and business it gave. Going into a large greenhouse with my aunt, who wanted toorder a bouquet, I went wandering round the place while shemade her bargain. For my aunt Gary made a bargain ofeverything. Wandering in thought as well, whither the sweetbreath of the roses and geraniums led me, I went back to Mollyin her cottage at Melbourne, and the Jewess geranium I hadcarried her, and the rose tree; and suddenly the thoughtstarted into my head, might not my dark friends at Magnolia, so quick to see and enjoy anything of beauty that came intheir way — so fond of bright colour and grace and elegance —a luxurious race, even in their downtrodden condition; mightnot _they_ also feel the sweetness of a rose, or delight in thepetals of a tulip? It was a great idea; it grew into a fullformed purpose before I was called to follow aunt Gary out ofthe greenhouse. The next day I went there on my own account. Iwas sure I knew what I wanted to do; but I studied a long timethe best way of doing it. Roses? I could hardly transport potsand trees so far; they were too cumbersome. Geraniums wereopen to the same objection, besides being a little tender asto the cold. Flower seeds could not be sown, if the people hadthem; for no patch of garden belonged to their stone huts, and they had no time to cultivate such a patch if they had it. I must give what would call for no care, to speak of, and makeno demands upon overtasked strength and time. Neither could Iafford to take anything of such bulk as would draw attentionor call out questions and comments. I knew, as well as I knownow, what would be thought of any plan or action whichsupposed _a love of the beautiful_ in creatures the only earthlyuse of whom was to raise rice and cotton; who in fact were nothalf so important as the harvests they grew. I knew whatunbounded scorn would visit any attempts of mine to ministerto an aesthetic taste in these creatures; and I was in nomind to call it out upon myself. All the while I knew better. I knew that Margaret and Stephanie could put on a turban likeno white woman I ever saw. I knew that even Marie could takethe full effect of my dress when I was decked — as I wassometimes — for a dinner party; and that no fall of lace orknot of ribband missed its errand to her eye. I knew that a_picture_ raised the liveliest interest in all my circle ofSunday hearers; and that they were quick to understand andkeen to take its bearings, far more then Molly Skelton wouldhave been, more than Logan, our Scotch gardener at Melbourne, or than my little old friend Hephzibah and her mother. But thequestion stood, in what form could I carry beauty to them outof a florist's shop? I was fain to take the florist into mypartial confidence. It was well that I did. He at oncesuggested bulbs. Bulbs! would they require much care? Hardlyany; no trouble at all. They could be easily transported;easily kept. All they wanted, was a little pot of earth when Iwas ready to plant them; a little judicious watering; anunbounded supply of sunshine. And what sorts of bulbs werethere? I asked diplomatically; not myself knowing, to telltruth, what bulbs were at all. Plenty of sorts, the floristsaid; there were hyacinths — all colours — and tulips, striped and plain, and very gay; and crocuses, those were ofnearly all colours too; and ranunculus, and anemones, andsnowdrops. Snowdrops were white; but of several of the otherkinds I could have every tint in the rainbow, both alone andmixed. The florist stood waiting my pleasure, and nipped off adead leaf or two as he spoke, as if there was no hurry and Icould tale my time. I went into happy calculation, as to howfar my funds would reach; gave my orders, very slowly and verycarefully; and went away the owner of a nice little stock oftulips, narcissus, crocuses, and above all, hyacinths. I chosegay tints, and at the same time inexpensive kinds; so that mystock was quite large enough for my purposes; it matterednothing to me whether a sweet double hyacinth was of a new oran old kind, provided it was of first-rate quality; and Iconfess it matters almost as little to me now. At any rate, Iwent home a satisfied child; and figuratively speaking, dinedand supped off tulips and hyacinths, instead of mutton andbread and butter. 

That afternoon it fell out that my aunt took me with her to amilliner's on some business. In the course of it, some talkarose about feathers and the value of them; and my aunt madea remark which, like Wat Tyrrell's arrow, glanced from its aimand did execution in a quarter undreamed of. 

"That feather you put in the little riding cap you sent me, "she said to the milliner, — "your black feather, Daisy, youknow, — you charged me but fifteen dollars for that; why isthis so much more?"

I did not hear the milliner's answer. My whole thought wentoff upon a track entirely new to me, and never entered before. My feather cost fifteen dollars! Fifteen dollars! Supposing Ihad that to buy tulips with? or in case I had already tulipsenough, suppose I had it to buy print gowns for Christmaspresents to the women, which I had desired and could notafford? Or that I had it to lay out in tea and sugar, that mypoor old friends might oftener have the one solace that wasleft to them, or that more might share it? Fifteen dollars! Itwas equal to one quarter and a half's allowance. My fund formore than a third of the year would be doubled, if I couldturn that black feather into silver or gold again. And thefeather was of no particular use, that I could see. It made melook like the heiress of Magnolia, my aunt said; but neithercould I see any use in _that_. Everybody knew, that is, all theservants and friends of the family knew, that I was thatheiress; I needed no black feather to proclaim it. And now itseemed to me as if my riding cap was heavy with undevelopedbulbs, uncrystallised sugar, unweighed green tea. Notransformation of the feather was possible; it must wave overmy brow in its old fashion, whether it were a misguidedfeather or not; but my thoughts, once set a going in thistrain, found a great deal to do. Truth to tell, they have notdone it all yet. 

"Aunt Gary, " I said that same evening, musing over the thingsin my boxes, — "does lace cost much?"

"That is like the countryman who asked me once, if it tooklong to play a piece of music! Daisy, don't you know any moreabout lace than to ask such a question?"

"I don't know what it costs, aunt Gary. I never bought any. "

"Bought! No; hardly. You are hardly at the age to _buy_ laceyet. But you have worn a good deal of it. "

"I cannot tell what it costs by looking at it, " I answered. 

"Well, _I_ can. And you will, one day, I hope; if you ever doanything like other people. "

"Is it costly, ma'am?"

"Your lace is rather costly, " my aunt said, with a tone whichI felt implied satisfaction. 

"How much?" I asked. 

"How much does it cost? Why it is the countryman's questionover again, Daisy. Lace is all sort of prices. But the laceyou wear, is, I judge, somewhere about three and five, and oneof your dresses, ten, dollars a yard. That is pretty rich lacefor a young lady of your years to wear. "

I never wore it, I must explain, unless in small quantity, except on state occasions when my mother dressed me as a partof herself. 

"No, I am wrong, " my aunt added presently; "that dress I amthinking of is richer than that; the lace on that robe wasnever bought for ten dollars, or fifteen either. What do youwant to know about it for, Daisy?"

I mused a great deal. Three and five, and ten, and fifteendollars a yard, on lace trimmings for me, and no tea, no cupsand saucers, no soft bed, no gardens and flowers, for many, who were near me. I began to fill the meshes of my lace withresponsibilities too heavy for the delicate fabric to bear. Nobody liked the looks of it better than I did. I always had afancy for lace, though not for feathers; its rich, delicate, soft falls, to my notion, suited my mother's form and stylebetter than anything else, and suited me. My taste found nofault. But now that so much gold was wrought into its slightweb, and so much silver lay hidden in every embroideredflower, the thing was changed. Graceful, and becoming, andelegant, more than any other adornment; what then? My motherand father had a great deal of money too, to spare; enough, Ithought, for lace and for the above tea and sugar too; whatthen? And what if not enough? I pondered, till my aunt Garybroke out upon me, that I would grow a wizened old woman if Isat musing at that rate; and sent me to bed. It stopped mypondering for that night; but not for all the years since thatnight. 

My preparations were quite made before my aunt got herfeathers adjusted to her satisfaction; and in the bright daysof autumn we went back again to Magnolia. This was a joyfuljourney and a glad arriving, compared to last year; and thewelcome I got was something which puzzled my heart between joyand sorrow many times during the first few days. 

And now Miss Pinshon's reign fairly began. I was stronger inhealth, accustomed to my circumstances; there was no longerany reason that the multiplication table and I should beparted. My governess was determined to make up for lost time;and the days of that winter were spent by me between the studytable and fire. That is, when I think of that winter my memoryfinds me there. Multiplication and its correlatives were thestaple of existence; and the old book room of my grandfatherwas the place where my harvests of learning were sown andreaped. 

Somehow, I do not think the crops were heavy. I tried my best;and Miss Pinshon certainly tried her best. I went through andover immense fields of figures; but I fancy the soil did notsuit the growth. I know the fruits were not satisfactory tomyself, and indeed were not fruits at all, to my sense of them;but rather dry husks and hard nut shells, with the mosttasteless of small kernels inside. Yet Miss Pinshon did notseem unsatisfied; and indeed occasionally remarked that shebelieved I meant to be a good child. Perhaps that wassomething out of my governess' former experience; for it wasthe only style of commendation I ever knew her indulge in, andI always took it as a compliment. 

It would not do to tell all my childish life that winter. Ishould never get through. For a child has as many experiencesin her little world as people of fifty years old have intheirs; and to her they are not little experiences. It was nota small trial of mind and body to spend the long mornings inthe study over the curious matters Miss Pinshon found for myattention; and after the long morning the shorter afternoonsession was unmixed weariness. Yet I suffered most in themorning; because then there was some life and energy within mewhich rebelled against confinement, and panted to be free andin the open air, looking after the very different work I couldfind or make for myself. My feet longed for the turf; myfingers wanted to throw down the slate pencil and gather upthe reins. I had a good fire and a pleasant room; but I wantedto be abroad in the open sunshine, to feel the sweet breath ofthe air in my face, and see the grey moss wave in the wind. That was what I had been used to all my life; a sweet wildroaming about, to pick up whatever pleasure presented itself. I suppose Miss Pinshon herself had never been used to it norknown it; for she did not seem to guess at what was in mymind. But it made my mornings hard to get through. By theafternoon the spirit was so utterly gone out of me and ofeverything, that I took it all in a mechanical stupid way; andonly my back's aching made me impatient for the time to end. 

I think I was fond of knowledge and fond of learning. I amsure of it, for I love it dearly still. But there was no joyabout it at Magnolia. History, as I found it with mygoverness, was not in the least like the history I had plannedon my tray of sand, and pointed out with red and black headedpins. There was life and stir in that, and progress. Now therewas nothing but a string of names and dates to say to MissPinshon. And dates were hard to remember, and did not seem tomean anything. But Miss Pinshon's favourite idea wasmathematics. It was not my favourite idea; so every day Iwandered through a wilderness of figures and signs which werea weariness to my mind and furnished no food for it. Nothingwas pleasant to me in my schoolroom, excepting my writinglessons. They were welcomed as a relief from other things. 

When the studies for the day were done, the next thing was toprepare for a walk. A walk with Miss Pinshon alone, for myaunt never joined us. Indeed, this winter my aunt was notinfrequently away from Magnolia altogether; finding Baytownmore diverting. It made a little difference to me; for whenshe was not at home, the whole day, morning, afternoon andevening, meal times and all times, seemed under a leaden greysky. Miss Pinshon discussed natural history to me when we werewalking — not the thing but the science; she asked mequestions in geography when we were eating breakfast, andtalked over some puzzle in arithmetic when we were at dinner. I think it was refreshing to her; she liked it; but to me, thesky closed over me in lead colour, one unbroken vault, as Isaid, when my aunt was away. With her at home, all this couldnot be; and any changes of colour were refreshing. All thiswas not very good for me. My rides with Darry would have beena great help; but now I only got a chance at them now andthen. I grew spiritless and weary. Sundays I would have beggedto be allowed to stay at home all day and rest; but I knew ifI pleaded fatigue my evenings with the people in the kitchenwould be immediately cut off; not my drives to church. MissPinshon always drove the six miles to Bolingbroke every Sundaymorning, and took me with her. Oh how long the miles were! howweary I was, with my back aching, and trying to find acomfortable corner in the carriage; how I wanted to lie downon the soft cushions in the pew and go to sleep during theservice. And when the miles home were finished, it seemed tome that so was I. Then I used to pray to have strength in theevening to read with the people. And I always had it; or atleast I always did it. I never failed; though the rest of theSunday hours were often spent on the bed. But indeed, thatSunday evening reading was the one thing that saved my lifefrom growing, or settling, into a petrifaction. Those hoursgave me cheer, and some spirit to begin again on Mondaymorning. 

However, I was not thriving. I know I was losing colour, andsinking in strength, day by day; yet very gradually; so thatmy governess never noticed it. My aunt sometimes on her returnfrom an absence that had been longer than common, looked at meuneasily. 

"Miss Pinshon, what ails that child?" she would ask. 

My governess said, "nothing. " Miss Pinshon was the mostimmovable person, I think, I have ever known. At least, so faras one could judge from the outside. 

"She looks to me, " my aunt went on, "exactly like a cabbage, or something else, that has been blanched under a barrel. Akind of unhealthy colour. She is not strong. "

"She has more strength than she shows, " my governess answered. "Daisy has a good deal of strength. "

"Do you think so ?" said my aunt, looking doubtfully at me. But she was comforted. And neither of them asked me about it. 

One thing in the early half of the winter was a great help;and for awhile stayed my flitting spirits and strength. Myfather wrote an order, that Daisy should make arrangements forgiving all the people on the plantation a great entertainmentat Christmas. I was to do what I liked and have whatever Ichose too desire; no one altering or interfering with my word. I shall never forget the overflowing of largest joy, withwhich my heart swelled as I ran in to tell this news to auntGary. But first I had to kneel down and give thanks for it. 

I never saw my aunt more displeased about anything. MissPinshon only lifted up her black eyes and looked me over. Theydid not express curiosity or anything else; only observation. My aunt spoke out. 

"I think there must be some mistake, Daisy. "

"No, aunt Gary; papa says just that. "

"You mean the house servants, child. "

"No, ma'am; papa, says everyone; all the people on the place. "

"He means the white people, you foolish child; everybody'shead is not full of the servants, as yours is. "

"He says, the coloured people, aunt Gary; all of them. It isonly the coloured people. "

"Hear her!" said my aunt. "Now she would rather entertainthem, I don't doubt, than the best company that could begathered of her own sort. "

I certainly would. Did I not think with joy at that veryminute of the words, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto theleast of _these_, ye have done it unto Me"? I knew what Guestwould be among my poor despised company. But I said not aword. 

"Daisy, " said my aunt, "you _must_ be under a mistake; you mustlet me see what your father says. Why, to give all thesehundreds an entertainment, it would cost — have you any ideawhat it would cost?"

I had not indeed. But my father's letter had mentioned a sumwhich was to be the limit of my expenditure; within which Iwas to be unlimited. It was a large sum, amounting to severalhundreds, and amply sufficient for all I could wish to do. Itold my aunt. 

"Well!" she said, twisting herself round to the fire, "if yourfather has money to fling about like that, I have of course nomore to say. "

Miss Pinshon looked up again at me. Those black eyes werealways the same; the eyelids never drooped over them. "Whatare you going to do, Daisy?" she asked. 

Truly I did not know yet. I gave my aunt a note to theoverseer from my father, which I begged her to forward; andran away to take sweet counsel with myself. 

I had had some little experience of such an entertainment inthe strawberry festival at Melbourne. I remembered that goodthings to eat and drink were sure to be enjoyed, and not theseonly, but also a pretty and festive air thrown about thesethings. And much more would this be true among the beauty-loving and luxurious-natured children of the tropics, thanwith the comparatively barbarous Celtic blood. But betweenentertaining thirty and seven hundred, there was a difference. And between the season of roses and fruits, and the time ofmid-winter, even though in a southern clime, there was anotherwide difference. I had need of a great deal of counsel-takingwith myself; and I took it; and it was very good for me. Inevery interval between mathematical or arithmetical problems, my mind ran off to this other one, with infinite refreshment. 

Then I consulted Maria; she was a great help to me. I thoughtat first I should have to build a place to hold our gatheringsin; the home kitchen was not a quarter large enough. But Darrytold me of an empty barn not far off, that was roomy andclean. By virtue of my full powers, I seized upon this barn. Ihad it well warmed with stoves; Darry saw to that for me andthat they were well and safely put up; I had it adorned andclothed and made gay with evergreens and flowers, till it wasbeautiful. The carpenters on the place put up long tables andfitted plenty of seats. Then I had some rough kitchensextemporised outside of it; and sent for loads of turkeys fromBaytown; and for days before and after Christmas my band ofcooks were busy, roasting and baking and cake-making. Coffeewas brewed without measure, as if we had been a nation ofArabs. And then tickets were furnished to all the people onthe place, tickets of admission; and for all the holidays, orfor Christmas and three days after, I kept open house at thebarn. Night and day I kept open house. I went and came myself, knowing that the sight of me hindered nobody's pleasure; but Ilet in no other white person, and I believe I gained thelasting ill will of the overseer by refusing him. I stoodresponsible for everybody's good behaviour, and had noforfeits to pay. And enjoyment reigned, during those days inthe barn; a gay enjoyment, full of talk and of singing as wellas of feasting; full of laughter and jokes, and full of utmostgood-humour and kindness from one to another. Again, mostunlike a party of Celtic origin. It was enjoyment to me too;very great; — though dashed continually by the thought howrare and strange it was to those around me. Only for my sake, and dependent on my little hand of power; having no guaranteeor security else for its ever coming again. As the holidaydrew near its end, my heart grew sore often at the thought ofall my poor friends going back into their toil, hopeless andspiritless as it was, without one ray to brighten the wholeyear before them till Christmas should come round again. Ay, and this feeling was quickened every now and then by a word, or a look, or a tone, which told me that I was not the onlyone who remembered it. "Christmas is almos' gone, Tony, " Iheard one fine fellow say to another at the end of the thirdday; and under the words there was a thread of meaning whichgave a twitch to my heartstrings. There were bursts of songmingled with all this, which I could not bear to hear. In theprayer-meetings I did not mind them; here, in the midst offestivities, they almost choked me. "I'm going home" — soundednow so much as if it were in a strange land; and once when achorus of them were singing, deep and slow, the refrain, —

"In the morning —Chil'len, in the morning —"

I had a great heartbreak, and sat down and cried behind mysugarplums. 

I can bear to think of it all now. There were years when Icould not. 

After this entertainment was over, and much more stupid oneshad been given among polished people at the house, and the NewYear had swept in upon us with its fresh breeze of life andcongratulations, the winter and Miss Pinshon settled down forunbroken sway. 

I had little to help me during those months from abroad. Thatis, I had nothing. My father wrote seldom. My mother's lettershad small comfort for me. They said that papa's health mendedslowly — was very delicate — he could not bear much exertion —his head would not endure any excitement. They were tryingconstant changes of scene and air. They were at Spa, at Paris, at Florence, at Vevay, in the Pyrenιes; not staying longanywhere. The physicians talked of a long sea voyage. From allwhich I gradually brought down my hopes into smaller andsmaller compass; till finally I packed them up and stowedthem away in the hidden furthermost corner of my heart; onlyto be brought out and looked at when there should be occasion. Spring came without the least prospect that such occasionwould be given me soon. My father and mother were makingpreparation to journey in Norway; and already there was talkof a third winter in Egypt! It was hoped that all thesechanges were not without some slow and certain effect in theway of improvement. I think on me they had another sort ofeffect. 

Spring as usual drove us away from Magnolia. This summer wasspent with my aunt Gary, at various pleasant and cool up-country places; where hills were, and brooks, and sweet air, and flowers; and where I might have found much to enjoy. Butalways Miss Pinshon was with me; and the quiet and freedom ofthese places, with the comparative cool climate, made itpossible for her to carry on all her schemes for myimprovement just as steadily as though we had been atMagnolia. And I had not Darry and my pony, which indeed, thelatter, had been of small use to me this year; and I had notmy band of friends on the Sunday evening; and even my own maidMargaret aunt Gary had chosen to leave behind. Miss Pinshon'sreign was absolute. I think some of the Medusa propertiesPreston used to talk about must have had their effect upon meat this time. I remember little of all that summer, save thework for Miss Pinshon, and the walks with Miss Pinshon, and ageneral impression of those black eyes and inflexible voice, and mathematics and dates, and a dull round of lesson getting. Not knowledge getting; — that would have been quite anotheraffair. I seemed to be all the while putting up a scaffolding, and never coming to work on the actual Temple of Learningitself. I know we were in beautiful regions that summer; butmy recollection is not of them but of rows of figures. And ofa very grave, I think dull, and very quiet little personage, who went about like a mouse, for silentness, and gave notrouble to anybody, excepting only to herself. 

The next winter passed as the winter before had done; only Ihad no Christmas entertainment. My father and mother were inEgypt; perhaps he did not think of it. Perhaps he did not feelthat he could afford it. Perhaps my aunt and the overseer hadseverally made representations to which my father thought itbest to listen. I had no festivities at any rate for my poorcoloured people; and it made my own holidays a very shadedthing. 

I found, however, this winter one source of amusement, and ina measure, of comfort. In the bookcases which held mygrandfather's library, there was a pretty large collection ofbooks of travel. I wanted to know just then about Egypt, thatI might the better in imagination follow my father and mother. I searched the shelves for Egypt; and was lucky enough tolight upon several works of authority and then recentobservation. I feasted on these. I began in the middle; thenvery soon went back to the beginning; and read delightedly, carefully, patiently, through every detail and discussion inwhich the various authors indulged. Then I turned all theirpictures into living panorama; for I fancied my father andmother in every place, looking at every wonder they described;and I enjoyed not merely what they described, but my father'sand mother's enjoyment of it. This was a rare delight to me. My favourite place was the corner of the study fire, at dusk, when lessons and tiresome walks for the day were done, andMiss Pinshon was taking her ease elsewhere in some other way. I had the fire made up to burn brightly, and pine knots athand to throw on if wanted; and with the illumination dancingall over my page, I went off to regions of enchantment, pleasant to me beyond any fairy tale. I never cared much forthings that were not true. No chambers of Arabian fancy couldhave had the fascination for me of those old Egyptian halls;nor all the marvels of magic entranced me like the wonder-working hand of time. Those books made my comfort and mydiversion all the winter. For I was not a galloping reader; Iwent patiently through every page; and the volumes were manyenough and interesting enough to last me long. I dreamed underthe Sphynx; I wandered over the pyramids; no chamber nor nookescaped me; I could have guided a traveller — in imagination. I knew the prospect from the top, though I never wrote my namethere. It seemed to me that _that_ was barbarism. I sailed upthe Nile, — delightful journeys on board the Nile boats, —forgetting Miss Pinshon and mathematics, except when I ratherpitied the ancient Egyptians for being so devoted to thelatter; forgetting Magnolia, and all the home things I couldnot do and would have liked to do; forgetting everything, andrapt in the enjoyment of tropical airy, and Eastern skies;hearing the plash of water from the everlasting _shadoof_, andwatching the tints and colours on the ranges of hillsbordering the Nile valley. All _my_ hills were green; the huesof those others were enough of themselves to make an enchantedland. Still more, as I stopped at the various old templesalong the way, my feeling of enchantment increased. I threadedthe mazes of rubbish, and traced the plans of the ruins ofThebes, till I was at home in every part of them. I studiedthe hieroglyphics and the descriptions of the sculptures, tillthe names of Thothmes III, and Amunoph III, and Sethos andRameses, Miamun and Rameses III, were as well known to me asthe names of the friends whom I met every Sunday evening. Ieven studied out the old Egyptian mythology, the better to beable to understand the sculptures, as well as the character ofthose ancient people who wrought them; and to be able to fancythe sort of services that were celebrated by the priests inthe splendid enclosures of the temples. 

And then I went higher up the Nile and watched at theuncovering of those wonderful colossal figures which stand, orsit, before the temple of Abou-Simbel. I tried to imagine whatmanner of things such large statues could be; I longed for onesight of the faces, said to be so superb, which showed whatthe great Rameses looked like. Mamma and papa could see them;that was a great joy. Belzoni was one of my prime favourites;and I liked particularly to travel with him, both there and atthe Tombs of the Kings. There were some engravings scatteredthrough the various volumes, and a good many plans, whichhelped me. I studied them, faithfully; and got from them allthey could give me. 

In the Tombs of the Kings, my childish imagination found, Ithink, its highest point of revelling and delight. Those weresomething stranger, more wonderful, and more splendid, eventhan Abou-Simbel and Karnak, Many an evening, while thefirelight from a Southern pine knot danced on my page, I wasgone on the wings of fancy thousands of miles away; and wentwith discoverers or explorers, up and down the passages andhalls and staircases and chambers, to which the entrance isfrom _Biban el Malook_. I wondered over the empty sarcophagi;held my breath at the pit's sides; and was never tired ofgoing over tile scenes and sculptures done in such brilliantcolours upon those white walls. Once in there, I quite forgotthat mamma and papa could see them; I was so busy seeing themmyself. 

This amusement of mine was one which nobody interfered with;and it lasted, as I said, all winter. All the winter my fatherand mother were in Egypt. When spring came, I began to lookwith trembling eagerness for a letter that should say theywould turn now homewards. I was disappointed. My father was somuch better that his physicians were encouraged to continuetheir travelling regimen; and the word came that it wasthought best he should try a long sea voyage; he was going toChina. My mother would go with him. 

I think never in my life my spirits sank lower than they didwhen I heard this news. I was not strong nor very well, whichmight have been in part the reason. And I was dull-hearted tothe last degree under the influence of Miss Pinshon's systemof management. There was no power of reaction in me. It wasplain that I was failing; and my aunt interrupted the lessons, and took me again to watering places at the North, from one toanother, giving me as much change as possible. It was good forme to be taken off study, which Miss Pinshon had pressed andcrowded during the winter. Sea bathing did me good, too; andthe change of scene and habits was useful. I did not rise tothe level of enjoying anything much; only the sea waves when Iwas in them; at other times I sat on the bank and watched thedistant smoke stack of a steamer going out, with aninexpressible longing and soreness of heart. Going, where Iwould so like to go! But there was no word of that. And indeedit would not have been advisable to take me to China. I didthink Egypt would not have been bad for me; but it was athought which I kept shut up in the furthest stores of myheart. 

The sea voyage however was delayed. My mother took sick; wasvery ill; and then unable to undertake the going to China. Myfather chose to wait for her; so the summer was spent by themin Switzerland and the autumn in Paris. With the first of theNew Year they expected now to sail. It suddenly entered myaunt Gary's head that it was a good time for _her_ to see Paris;and she departed, taking Ransom with her, whom my fatherwished to place in a German University, and meantime in aFrench school. Preston had been placed at the Military Academyat West Point; my aunt thinking that it made a nice finishingof a gentleman's education, and would keep him out of mischieftill he was grown to man's estate. I was left alone with MissPinshon to go back to Magnolia and take up my old life there. 

CHAPTER VII. 

SINGLEHANDED. 

As my aunt set sail for the shores of Europe, and Miss Pinshonand I turned our faces towards Magnolia, I seemed to seebefore me a weary winter. I was alone now; there was nobody totake my part in small or great things; my governess would haveher way. I was so much stronger now that no doubt she thoughtI could bear it. So it was. The full tale of studies and taskswas laid on me; and it lay on me from morning till night. 

I had expected that. I had looked also for the comfort andrefreshment of ministering to my poor friends in the kitchenon the Sunday evenings. I began as usual with them. But as theSundays came round, I found now and then a gap or two in thecircle; and the gaps as time went on did not fill up; or ifthey did they were succeeded by other gaps. My hearers grewfewer, instead of more; the fact was undoubted. Darry wasalways on the spot; but the two Jems not always, and Pete wasnot sure, and Eliza failed sometimes, and others; and thisgrew worse. Moreover, a certain grave and sad air replaced theenjoying, almost jocund, spirit of gladness which used towelcome me and listen to the reading and join in the prayersand raise the song. The singing was not less good than it usedto; but it fell oftener into the minor key, and then poutedalong with a steady, powerful volume, deepening and steadyingas it went, which somehow swept over my heart like a wind fromthe desert. I could not well tell why, yet I felt it troubleme; sometimes my heart trembled with the thrill of those sweetand solemn vibrations. I fancied that Darry's prayers had asomewhat different atmosphere from the old. Yet when I once ortwice asked Margaret the next morning why such and such a onehad not been at the reading, she gave me a careless answer, that she supposed Mr. Edwards had found something for them todo. 

"But at night, Margaret?" I said. "Mr. Edwards cannot keepthem at work at night. "

To which she made no answer; and I was for some reasonunwilling to press the matter. But things went on, not gettingbetter but worse, until I could not bear it. I watched myopportunity and got Maria alone. 

"What is the matter, " I asked, "that the people do not come onSunday evening as they used? Are they tired of the reading, Maria?"

"I 'spect dey's as tired as a fish mus' be of de water, " saidMaria. She had a fine specimen under her hand at the moment, which I suppose suggested the figure. 

"Then why do they not come as usual, Maria? there were only afew last night. "

"Dere was so few, it was lonesome, " said Maria. 

"Then what is the reason?"

"Dere is more reasons for t'ings, den Maria can make out, " —she said thoughtfully. "Mebbe it's to make 'em love depriv'lege mo'. "

"But what keeps them away, Maria? what hinders?"

"Chile, de Lord hab His angels, and de devil he hab hisministers; and dey takes all sorts o' shapes, de angels and deministers too. I reckon dere's some work o'dat sort goin'on. "

Maria spoke in a sort of sententious wisdom which did notsatisfy me at all. I thought there was something behind. 

"Who is doing the work, Maria?" I asked, after a minute. 

"Miss Daisy, " she said, "dere aint no happenin' at all widoutde Lord lets it happen. Dere is much contrairy in dis world, —fact, dere is! — but I 'spect de Lord make it all up to usby'm by. "

And she turned her face full upon me with a smile of so muchquiet resting in that truth, that for just a moment itsilenced me. 

"Miss Daisy aint lookin' quite so peart as she use to look, "Maria went on. But I slipped away from that diversion. 

"Maria, " I said, "you don't tell me what is the matter; and Iwish to know. What keeps the people, Pete, and Eliza and all, from coming? What hinders them, Maria? I wish to know. "

Maria busied herself with her fish for a minute, turning andwashing it; then without looking up from her work she said ina lowered tone, —

" 'Spect de overseer, he don't hab no favour to such ways andmeetin's. "

"But, with _me?_" I said; "and with aunt Gary's leave?"

"S'pose he like to fix t'ings his own way, " said Maria. 

"Does he forbid them to come?" I asked. 

"I reckon he do, " — she said, with a sigh. 

Maria was very even-tempered, quiet, and wise, in her own way. Her sigh went through my heart. I stood thinking what plan Icould take. 

"De Lord is bery good, Miss Daisy, " she said, cheerily amoment after; "I and dem dat love Him, dcre can be no sorto'separation, no ways. "

"Does Mr. Edwards forbid them _all_ to come?" I asked. "For agood many do come. "

" 'Spect he don't like de meetin's, no how, " said Maria. 

"But does he tell all the people they must not come?"

"I reckon he make it oncomfor'ble for 'em, " Maria answeredgravely. "Dere is no end o' de mean ways o' sich folks. Knowhe aint no gentleman, no how!"

"What does he do, Maria?" I said; trembling, yet unable tokeep back the question. 

"He can do what he please, Miss Daisy, " Maria said, in thesame grave way. " 'Cept de Lord above, dere no one can hinder —now massa so fur. Bes' pray de Lord, and mebbe He sen' hisangel, some time. "

Maria's fish was ready for the kettle; some of the otherservants came in; and I went with a heavy heart up the stairs. "Massa so fur" — yes! I knew that; and Mr. Edwards knew ittoo. Once sailed for China; and it would be long, long, beforemy cry for help, in the shape of one of my little letters, could reach him and get back the answer. My heart felt heavyas if I could die, while I slowly mounted the stairs to myroom. It was not only that trouble was brought upon my poorfriends, nor even that their short enjoyment of the Word oflife was hindered and interrupted; above this and worse thanthis was the sense of _wrong_, done to these helpless people, and done by my own father and mother. This sense was somethingtoo bitter for a child of my years to bear; it crushed me fora time. Our people had a right to the Bible, as great as mine;a right to dispose of themselves, as true as my father's rightto dispose of himself. Christ, my Lord, had died for them aswell as for me; and here was my father, — _my father_ —practically saying that they should not hear of it, nor knowthe message He had sent to them. And if anything could havemade this more bitter to me, it was the consciousness that thereason of it all was that we might profit by it. Those unpaidhands wrought that our hands might be free to do nothing;those empty cabins were bare, in order that our houses mightbe full of every soft luxury; those unlettered minds were keptunlettered that the rarest of intellectual wealth might bepoured into our treasury. I knew it. For I had written to myfather once to beg his leave to establish schools, where thepeople on the plantation might be taught to read and write. Hehad sent a very kind answer, saying it was just like hislittle Daisy to wish such a thing, and that his wish was notagainst it, if it could be done; but that the laws of theState, and for wise reasons, forbade it. Greatly puzzled bythis, I one day carried my puzzle to Preston. He laughed at meas usual, but at the same time explained that it would not besafe; for that if the slaves were allowed books and knowledge, they would soon not be content with their condition, and wouldbe banding together to make themselves free. I knew all this, and I had been brooding over it; and now when the powerfulhand of the overseer came in to hinder the little bit of goodand comfort I was trying to give the people, my heart was seton fire with a sense of sorrow and wrong that, as I said, nochild ought ever to know. 

I think it made me ill. I could not eat. I studied like amachine, and went and came as Miss Pinshon bade me; all thewhile brooding by myself and turning over and over in my heartthe furrows of thought, which seemed at first to promise noharvest. Yet those furrows never break the soil for nothing. In due time the seed fell; and the fruit of a ripened purposecame to maturity. 

I did not give up my Sunday readings; even although thenumbers of my hearers grew scantier. As many as could, we mettogether to read and to pray, yes, and to sing. And I shallnever in this world hear such singing again. One refrain comesback to me now —

"Oh, had I the wings of the morning —Oh, had I the wings of the morning —Oh, had I the wings of the morning —I'd fly to my Jesus away!"

I used to feel so too, as I listened and sometimes sung withthem. 

Meantime, all that I could do with my quarterly ten dollars, Idid. And there was many a little bit of pleasure I could give;what with a tulip here and a cup of tea there, and a brighthandkerchief, or a pair of shoes. Few of the people had spiritand cultivation enough to care for the flowers. But Mariacherished some red and white tulips and a hyacinth in heirkitchen window, as if they had been her children; and to Darrya white rose-tree I had given him seemed almost to take theplace of a familiar spirit. Even grave Pete, whom I only sawnow and then this winter at my readings, nursed and tended andwatched a bed of crocuses with endless delight and care. Allthe while, my Sunday circle of friends grew constantly fewer;and the songs that were sung at our hindered meetings had aspirit in them, which seemed to me to speak of a deep-lyingfire somewhere in the hearts of the singers, hidden, butalways ready to burst into a blaze. Was it because the firewas burning in my own heart?

I met one of the two Jems in the pine avenue one day. Hegreeted me with the pleasantest of broad smiles. 

"Jem, " said I, "why don't you come to the house Sundayevenings, any more?"

"It don't 'pear practical, missie. " Jem was given to large-sized words, when he could get hold of them. 

"Mr. Edwards hinders you?"

"Mass' Ed'ards bery smart man, Miss Daisy. He want massa'swork done up all jus' so. "

"And he says that the prayer-meeting hinders the work, Jem?"

"Clar, missis, Mass' Ed'ards got long head; he see furder denme, " Jem said, shaking his own head as, if the whole thingwere beyond him. I let him go. But a day or two after Iattacked Margaret on the subject. She and Jem, I knew, wereparticular friends. Margaret was oracular and mysterious, andlooked like a thunder cloud. I got nothing from her, except anincrease of uneasiness. I was afraid to go further in myinquiries; yet could not rest without. The house servants, Iknew, would not be likely to tell me anything that wouldtrouble me, if they could help it. The only exception wasmammy Theresa; who with all her love for me had either lesstact, or had grown from long habit hardened to the state ofthings in which she had been brought up. From her, by a littlecross questioning, I learned that Jem and others had beenforbidden to come to the Sunday readings; and their disobeyinghad been visited with the lash, not once nor twice; till, asmammy Theresa said, " 'peared like it warn't no use to try tobe good agin de devil. "

And papa was away on his voyage to China, away on the highseas, where no letter could reach him and Mr. Edwards knewthat. There was a fire in my heart now, that burned with sharppain. I felt as if it would burn my heart out. And now tookshape and form one single aim and purpose, which became foryears the foremost one of my life. It had been growing andgathering. I set it clear before me from this time. 

Meanwhile, my mother's daughter was not willing to be entirelybaffled by the overseer. I arranged with Darry that I would beat the Cemetery hill on all pleasant Sunday afternoons; andthat all who wished to hear, me read, or who wished to learnthemselves, might meet me there. The Sunday afternoons wereoften pleasant that winter. I was constantly at my post; andmany a one crept round to me from the quarters and made hisway through the graves and the trees to where I sat by theiron railing. We were safe there. Nobody but me liked theplace. Miss Pinshon and the overseer agreed in shunning it. And there was promise in the blue sky, and hope in the softsunshine, and sympathy in the sweet rustle of the pine leaves. Why not? Are they not all God's voices. And the words of theBook were very precious there, to me and many another. I wasrather more left to myself of late. My governess gave me mylessons quite as assiduously as ever; but after lesson timeshe seemed to have something else to take her attention. Shedid not walk often with me, as the spring drew near; and mySunday afternoons were absolutely unquestioned. 

One day in March, I had gone to my favourite place to get outa lesson. It was not Sunday afternoon of course. I was tiredwith my day's work, or I was not very strong; for though I hadwork to do, the witcheries of nature prevailed with me to putdown my book. The scent of pine buds and flowers made the airsweet to smell, and the spring sun made it delicious to feel. The light won its way tenderly among the trees, touching thewhite marble tombstones behind me, but resting with a moregentle ray upon the moss and turf where only little bits ofrough board marked the sleeping places of our dependants. Justout of sight, through the still air I could hear the river, inits rippling, flow past the bank at the top of which I sat. Mybook hung in my hand, and the course of Universal History wasforgotten; while I mused and mused over the two sorts ofgraves that lay around me, the two races, the diverse fatethat attended them; while one blue sky was over, and onesunlight fell down. And "while I was musing, the fire burned, "more fiercely than ever. David's had occasion when he wrotethose words. "Then spake I with my tongue. " I would have likedto do that. But I could do nothing; only pray. 

I was very much startled while I sat in my muse, to bear afootstep coming. A steady, regular, footstep; no light trip ofchildren; and the hands were in the field, and this was not astep like any of them. My first thought was, the overseer!come to spy me out. The next minute I saw through the treesand the iron railings behind me, that it was not the overseer. I knew _his_ wide-awake; and this head was crowned with somesort of a cap. I turned my head again and sat quiet; willingto be overlooked, if that might be. The steps never slackened. I heard them coming round the railing — then just at thecorner — I looked up, to see the cap lifted, and a smilecoming upon features that I knew; but my own thoughts were sovery far away that my visitor had almost reached my sidebefore I could recollect who it was. I remember I got up thenin a little hurry. 

"It is Doctor Sandford!" I exclaimed, as his hand took mine. 

"Is it Daisy?" answered the doctor. 

"I think so, " I said. 

"And I _think so_, " he said, looking at me after the oldfashion. "Sit down, and let me make sure. "

"You must sit on the grass, then, " I said. 

"Not a bad thing, in such a pleasant place, " he rejoined, sending his blue eye all round my prospect. "But it is not sopleasant a place as White Lake, Daisy. "

Such a flood of memories and happy associations came rushinginto my mind at these words, — he had not given them time tocome in slowly, — I suppose my face showed it. The doctorlooked at me and smiled. 

"I see it _is_ Daisy, " he said. "I think it certainly Daisy. Soyou do not like Magnolia?"

"Yes, I do, " I said, wondering where he got that conclusion. "I like the _place_ very much, if —"

"I should like to have the finishing of that 'if' — if youhave no objection. "

"I like the _place_, " I repeated. "There are some things aboutit I do not like. "

"Climate, perhaps?"

"I did not mean the climate. I do not think I meant anythingthat belonged to the place itself. "

"How do you do?" was the doctor's next question. 

"I am very well, sir. "

"How do you know it?"

"I suppose I am, " I said. "I am not sick. I always say I amwell. "

"For instance, you are so well that you never get tired?"

"Oh, I get tired very often. I always did. "

"What sort of things make you tired? Do you take too longdrives in your pony-chaise?"

"I have no pony-chaise now, Dr. Sandford. Loupe was left atMelbourne. I don't know what became of him. "

"Why didn't you bring him along? But any other pony would do, Daisy. "

"I don't drive at all, Dr. Sandford. My aunt and governess donot like to have me drive as I used to do. — I wish I could!"

"You would like to use your pony-chaise again?"

"Very much. I know it would rest me. "

"And you have a governess, Daisy? That is something you hadnot at Melbourne. "

"No —" I said. 

"A governess is a very nice thing, " said the doctor, takingoff his hat and leaning back against the iron railing, — "ifshe knows properly how to set people to play. "

"To play!" I echoed. I don't know whether Miss Pinshonapproves of play. "

"Oh! She approves of work then, does she?"

"She likes work, " I answered. 

"Keeps you busy?"

"Most of the day, sir. "

"The evenings you have to yourself?"

"Sometimes. Not always. Sometimes I cannot get through with mylessons, and they stretch on into the evening. "

"How many lessons does this lady think a person of your ageand capacity can manage in the twenty-four hours?" said thedoctor, taking out his knife as he spoke and beginning to trimthe thorns off a bit of sweet-briar he had cut. I stopped tomake the reckoning. 

"Give me the course of your day, Daisy. And, by the by, whendoes your day begin?"

"It begins at half past seven, Dr. Sandford. "

"With breakfast?"

"No, sir. I have a recitation before breakfast. "

"Please, of what?"

"Miss Pinshon always begins with mathematics. "

"As a bitters. Do you find that it gives you an appetite?"

By this time I was very near bursting into tears. The familiarvoice and way, the old time they brought back, the contraststhey forced together, the different days of Melbourne and ofmy Southern home, the forms and voices of mamma and papa, —they all came crowding and flitting before me. I was obligedto delay my answer. I knew that Dr. Sandford looked at me;then he went on in a very gentle way —

"Sweetbriar is sweet, — Daisy" — putting it to my nose. "Ishould like to know, how long does mathematics last, beforeyou are allowed to have coffee?"

"Mathematics only lasts half an hour. But then I have an hourof study in Mental Philosophy before breakfast. We breakfastat nine. "

"It must take a great deal of coffee to wash down all that, "said the doctor lazily trimming his sweetbriar. "Don't youfind that you are very hungry when you come to breakfast?"

"No, not generally, " I said. 

"How is that? Where there is so much sharpening of the wits, people ought to be sharp otherwise. "

"My wits do not get sharpened, " I said, half laughing. "Ithink they get dull; and I am often dull altogether bybreakfast time. "

"What time in the day do you walk?"

"In the afternoon — when we have done with the schoolroom. Butlately Miss Pinshon does not walk much. "

"So you take the best of the day for philosophy?"

"No, sir, for mathematics. "

"Oh! — Well, Daisy, _after_ philosophy and mathematics have bothhad their turn; what then? when breakfast is over. "

"Oh, they have two or three more turns in the course; of theday, " I said. "Astronomy comes after breakfast; then Smith's_Wealth of Nations_; then Chemistry. Then I have a long Historylesson to recite; then French. After dinner we have NaturalPhilosophy, and Physical Geography and Mathematics; and thenwe have generally done. "

"And then what is left of you goes to walk, " said the doctor. 

"No, not very often now, " I said. "I don't know why, MissPinshon has very much given up walking of late. "

"Then what becomes of you?"

"I do not often want to do much of anything, " I said. "To-dayI came here. "

"With a book, " said the doctor. "Is it work or play?"

"My History lesson, " I said, showing the book. "I had notquite time enough at home. "

"How much of a lesson, for instance?" said the doctor, takingthe book and turning over the leaves. 

"I had to make a synopsis of the state of Europe from thethird century to the tenth; — synchronising the event and thenames. "

"In writing?"

"I might write it if I chose, — I often do, — but I have togive the synopsis by memory. "

"Does it take long to prepare, Daisy?" said the doctor, stillturning over the leaves. 

"Pretty long, " I said, "when I am stupid. Sometimes I cannotdo the synchronising, my head gets so thick; and I have totake two or three days for it. "

"Don't you get punished, for letting your head get thick?"

"Sometimes I do. "

"And what is the system of punishment at Magnolia for suchdeeds?"

"I am kept in the house for the rest of the afternoonsometimes, " I said; "or I have an extra problem in mathematicsto get out for the next morning. "

"And _that_ keeps you in, if the governess don't. "

"Oh, no, " I said; "I never can work at it then. I get upearlier the next morning. "

"Do you do nothing for exercise but those walks, which you donot take?"

"I used to ride last year, " I said; "and this year I wasstronger, and Miss Pinshon gave me more studies; and somehow Ihave not cared to ride so much. I have felt more like beingstill. "

"You must have grown tremendously wise, Daisy, " said thedoctor, looking round at me now with his old pleasant smile. Icannot tell the pleasure and comfort it was to me to see him;but I think I said nothing. 

"It is near the time now when you always leave Magnolia — isit not?"

"Very near now. "

"Would it trouble you to have the time a little anticipated?"

I looked at him, in much doubt what this might mean. Thedoctor fumbled in his breast pocket and fetched out a letter. 

"Just before your father sailed for China, he sent me this. Itwas some time before it reached me; and it was some timelonger before I could act upon it. "

He put a letter in my hand, which I, wondering, read. It said, the letter did, that papa was not at ease about me; that hewas not satisfied with my aunt's report of me, nor with thestyle of my late letters; and begged Dr. Sandford would rundown to Magnolia at his earliest convenience and see me, andmake enquiry as to my well-being; and if he found things notsatisfactory, as my father feared he might and judged that therule of Miss Pinshon had not been good for me on the whole, myfather desired that Dr. Sandford would take measures to haveme removed to the North and placed in one of the best schoolsthere to be found; such a one as Mrs. Sandford mightrecommend. The letter further desired, that Dr. Sandford wouldkeep a regular watch over my health, and suffer no schooltraining nor anything else to interfere with it; expressingthe writer's confidence that Dr. Sandford knew better than anyone what was good for me. 

"So you see, Daisy, " the doctor said, when I handed him backthe letter, "your father has constituted me in some sort yourguardian, until such time as he comes back. "

"I am very glad, " I said, smiling. 

"Are you? That is kind. I am going to act upon my authorityimmediately, and take you away. "

"From Magnolia?" I said breathlessly. 

"Yes. Wouldn't you like to go and see Melbourne again for alittle while?"

"Melbourne!" said I; and I remember how my cheeks grew warm. "But — will Miss Pinshon go to Melbourne?"

"No; she will not. Nor anywhere else, Daisy, with my will andpermission, where you go. Will that distress you very much?"

I could not say yes, and I believe I made no answer, mythoughts were in such a whirl. 

"Is Mrs. Sandford in Melbourne — I mean, near Melbourne —now?" I asked at length. 

"No, she is in Washington. But she will be going to the oldplace before long. Would you like to go, Daisy?"

I could hardly tell him. I could hardly think. It began torush over me, that this parting from Magnolia was likely to befor a longer time than usual. The river murmured by — thesunlight shone on the groves on the hillside. Who would lookafter my poor people?

"You like Magnolia after all?" said the doctor. "I do notwonder, as far as Magnolia goes. You are sorry to leave it. "

"No, " I said, — "I am not sorry at all to leave Magnolia; I amvery glad. I am only sorry to leave — some friends. "

"Friends —" said the doctor. 

"Yes. "

"How many friends?"

"I don't know, " said I. "I think there are a hundred or more. "

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yes, " I said, "They are all on the place here. "

"How long will you want, Daisy, to take proper leave of thesefriends?"

I had no idea he was in such practical haste; but I found itwas so. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

EGYPTIAN GLASS. 

It became necessary for me to think how soon I could be ready, and arrange to get my leave-takings over by a certain time. Dr. Sandford could not wait for me. He was an army surgeonnow, I found, and stationed at Washington. He had to return tohis post and leave Miss Pinshon to bring me up to Washington. I fancy matters were easily arranged with Miss Pinshon. Shewas as meek as a lamb. But it never was her way to fightagainst circumstances. The doctor ordered that I should comeup to Washington in a week or two. 

I did not know till he was gone, what a hard week it was goingto be. 

As soon as he had turned his back upon Magnolia, my leave-takings began. I may say they began sooner: for in the morningafter his arrival, when Margaret was in my room, she fell toquestioning me about the truth of the rumour that had reachedthe kitchen. Jim said I was going away, not to come back. I donot know how he had got hold of the notion. And when I toldher it was true, she dropped the pine splinters out of herhands, and rising to her feet, besought me that I would takeher with me. So eagerly she besought me, that I had muchdifficulty to answer. 

"I shall be in a school, Margaret, " I said. "I could not haveanybody there to wait on me. "

"Miss Daisy won't never do everything for herself. "

"Yes, I must, " I said. "All the girls do. "

"I'd hire out then, Miss Daisy, while you don't want me — I'dbe right smart — and I'd bring all my earnin's to you regular. 'Deed I will! Till Miss Daisy want me herself. "

I felt my cheeks flush. She would bring _her_ earnings to _me_. Yes, that was what we were doing. 

"Clar, Miss Daisy, do don't leave me behind! I could takewashin' and do all Miss Daisy's things up right smart — don'tbelieve they knows how to do things up there! — I'll come tono good if I don't go with Miss Daisy, sure. "

"You can be good here as well as anywhere, Margaret, " I said. 

"Miss Daisy don' know. Miss Daisy, 'spose the devil walkin'round about a place; — think it a nice place fur to be goodin?"

"The devil is not in Magnolia more than anywhere else, " Isaid. 

"Dere Mass' Edwards, —" Margaret said half under her breath. Even in my room she would not speak the name out loud. 

The end of it was, that I wrote up to Washington to DrSandford to ask if I might take the girl with me; and hisanswer came back, that if it were any pleasure to me Icertainly might. So that matter was settled. But the partingwith the rest was hard. I do not know whether it was hardestfor them or for me. Darry blessed me and prayed for me. Mariawept over me. Theresa mourned and lamented. Tears and wailingscame from all the poor women who knew me best and used to cometo the Sunday readings; and Pete took occasion to make privaterequest, that when I was grown, or when at any time I shouldwant a man servant, I would remember and send for him. Hecould do anything, he said; he could drive horses or milk cowsor take care of a garden, or _cook_. It was said in a subduedvoice, and though with a gleam of his white circle of teeth atthe last mentioned accomplishment, it was said with a depth ofgrave earnestness which troubled me. I promised as well as Icould; but my heart was very sore for my poor people, left nowwithout anybody, even so much as a child, to look after theircomfort and give them any hopes for one world or the other. 

Those heavy days were done at last. Margaret was speedy withmy packing; — a week from the time of Dr. Sandford's coming, Ihad said my last lesson to Miss Pinshon, read my last readingto my poor people, shaken the last hand-shakings; and we wereon the little steamer plying down the Sands river. 

I think I was wearied out; for I remember no excitement orinterest about the journey, which ought to have had so muchfor me. In a passive state of mind I followed Miss Pinshonfrom steamer to station; from one train of cars to another;and saw the familiar landscape flit before me as the carswhirled us on. At Baytown we had been joined by a gentlemanwho went with us all the rest of the way; and I began bydegrees to comprehend that my governess had changed hervocation, and instead of taking care, as heretofore, was goingto be taken care of. It did not interest me. I saw it, thatwas all. I saw Margaret's delight, too, shown by every quickand thoughtful movement that could be of any service to me, and by a certain inexpressible air of deliverance which sat onher, I cannot tell how, from her bonnet down to her shoes. Buther delight reminded me of those that were not delivered. 

I think, of all the crushing griefs that a young person can becalled to bear, one of the sorest is the feeling of wrong-doing on the part of a beloved father or mother. I was surethat my father, blinded by old habit and bound by the laws ofthe country, did not in the least degree realise the truestate of the matter. I knew that the real colour of his goldhad never been seen by him. Not the less, _I_ knew now that itwas bloody; and what was worse, though I do not know _why_ itshould be worse, I knew that it was soiled. I knew that greedand dishonour were the two collectors of our revenue, and_wrong_ our agent. Do I use strong words? They are not toostrong for the feelings which constantly bore upon my heart, nor too bitter; though my childish heart never put them intosuch words at the time. That my father did not know, saved mylove and reverence for him; but it did not change anythingelse. 

In the last stage of our journey, as we left a station wherethe train had stopped, I noticed a little book left on one ofthe empty seats of the car. It lay there and nobody touchedit; till we were leaving the car at Alexandria and almosteverybody had gone out, and I saw that it lay there still andnobody would claim it. In passing I took it up. It was a neatlittle book, with gilt edges; no name in it; and having itspages numbered for the days of the year. And each page wasfull of Bible words. It looked nice. I put the book in mypocket; and on board the ferryboat opened it again, and lookedfor the date of the day in March where we were. I found thewords — "He preserveth the way of His saints. " They were thewords heading the page. I had not time for another bit; but asI left the boat this went into my heart like a cordial. 

It was a damp, dark morning. The air was chill as we left thelittle boat cabin; the streets were dirty; there was aconfusion of people seeking carriages or porters or baggage orcustom; then suddenly I felt as if I had lighted on a tower ofstrength, for Dr. Sandford stood at my side. A good-humouredsort of a tower he looked to me, in his steady, uprightbearing; and his military coat helped the impression of that. I can see now his touch of his cap to Miss Pinshon, and thenthe quick glance which took in Margaret and me. In anotherminute I had shaken hands with my governess, and was in acarriage with Margaret opposite me; and Dr. Sandford wasgiving my baggage in charge to somebody. And then he took hisplace beside me and we drove off. And I drew a long breath. 

"Punctual to your time, Daisy, " said the doctor. "But whatmade you choose such a time? How much of yourself have youleft by the way?"

"Miss Pinshon liked better to travel all night, " I said, "because there was no place where she liked to stop to spendthe night. "

"What was your opinion on that subject?"

"I was more tired than she was, I suppose. "

"Has she managed things on the same system for the four yearspast?"

The doctor put the question with such a cool gravity, that Icould not help laughing. Yet I believe my laughing was verynear crying. At first he did so put me in mind of all that wasabout me when I used to see him in that time long before. Andan inexpressible feeling of comfort was in his presence now;a feeling of being taken care of. I had been looked after, undoubtedly, all these years; — sharply looked after; therewas never a night that I could go to sleep without mygoverness coming in to see that I was in my room, or in bed, and my clothes in order, and my light where it ought to be. And my aunt had not forgotten me; nor her perplexities aboutme. And Preston had petted me, when he was near. But evenPreston sometimes lost sight of me in the urgency of his ownpleasure or business. There was a great difference in thestrong hand of Dr. Sandford's care; and if you had ever lookedinto his blue eyes, you would know that they forgot nothing. They had always fascinated me; they did now. 

Mrs. Sandford was not up when we got to the house where shewas staying. It was no matter, for a room was ready for me;and Dr. Sandford had a nice little breakfast brought, and sawme eat it, just as if I were a patient. Then he ordered me tobed, and charged Margaret to watch over me, and he went away, as he said, till luncheon time. 

I drew two or three long breaths as Margaret was undressingme; I felt so comfortable. 

"Are Miss Pinshon done gone away, Miss Daisy?" my handmaidasked. 

"From Magnolia? yes. "

"Where she gwine to?"

"I don't know. "

"Then she don't go no furder along the way we're goin'?"

"No. I wonder, Margaret, if they will have any prayer-meetingsin Magnolia now?" For with the mention of Magnolia my thoughtsswept back. 

" 'Spect the overseer have his ugly old way!" Margaret utteredwith great disgust. "Miss Daisy done promise me, I go 'longwith Miss Daisy?" she added anxiously. 

"Yes. But what makes you want to get away from home more thanall the rest of them?"

"Reckon I'dc done gone kill myself, s'pose. Miss Daisy leaveme there, " the girl said gloomily. "If dey send me down South, I _would_. "

"Send you South!" I said; "they would not do that, Margaret. "

"Dere was man wantin' to buy me — give mighty high price deoverseer said. " In excitement Margaret's tongue sometimes grewthick like those of her neighbours. 

"Mr. Edwards has no right to sell anybody away from theplace, " I insisted, in mixed unbelief and horror. 

"Dunno, " said Margaret. "Don't make no difference, Miss Daisy. Who care what he do? Dere's Pete's wife —"

"Pete's wife?" said I. "I didn't know Pete was married! Whatof Pete's wife?"

"Dat doctor will kill me, for sure!" said Margaret, looking atme. "Do, don't, Miss Daisy! The doctor say you must go rightto bed, now. See! you aint got your clothes off. "

"Stop, " said I. "What about Pete's wife?"

"I done forget. I thought Miss Daisy knowed. Mebbe it's beforeMiss Daisy come home. "

"What?" said I. "What —?"

"It's nothin", Miss Daisy. "The overseer he done got mad withPete's wife and he sold her down South, he did. "

"Away from Pete?" said I. 

"Pete, he's to de old place, " said Margaret laconically. " 'Spect he forgot all about it by dis time. Miss Daisy pleasehave her clothes off and go to bed?"

There was nothing more to wait for. I submitted, wasundressed; but the rest and sleep which had been desired werefar out of reach now. Pete's wife? — my good, strong, gentle, and I remembered always _grave_, Pete! My heart was on fire withindignation and torn to pieces with sorrow, both at once. Tornwith the helpless feeling too that I could not mend the wrong. I do not mean this individual wrong, but the whole state ofthings under which such wrong was possible. I was restless onmy bed, though very weary. I would rather have been up anddoing something, than to lie and look at my trouble; only thatbeing there kept me out of the way of seeing people and oftalking. Such things done under my father and mother's ownauthority, — on their own land, — to their own helplessdependants; whom yet it was _they_ made helpless and keptsubject to such possibilities. I turned and tossed, feelingthat I _must_ do something, while yet I knew I could do nothing. Pete's wife! And where was she now? And _that_ was the secret ofthe unvarying grave shadow that Pete's brow always wore. Andnow that I had quitted Magnolia, no human friend for thepresent remained to all that crowd of poor and ignorant andneedy humanity. Even their comfort of prayer forbidden;except such comfort as each believer might take by himselfalone. 

I did not know, I never did know till long after, how to manyat Magnolia that prohibition wrought no harm. I think Margaretknew, and even then did not dare tell me. How the meetings forprayer were not stopped. How watch was kept on certain nights, till all stir had ceased in the little community; till lightswere out in the overseer's house (and at the great house, while we were there); and how then, silently and softly fromtheir several cabins, the people stole away through the woods, to a little hill beyond the cemetery, quite far out of hearingor ken of anybody; and there prayed, and sang too, and"praised God and shouted, " as my informant told me; notneglecting all the while to keep a picket watch about theirmeeting place, to give the alarm in case anybody should come. So under the soft moonlight skies and at depth of night, themeetings which I had supposed broken up, took new life, andgrew, and lived; and prayers did not fail; and the Lordhearkened and heard. 

It would have comforted me greatly if I could have known thisat the time. But as I said, I suppose Margaret dared not tellme. After a long while of weary tossing and heart ache, sleepcame at last to me; but it brought Pete and his wife and theoverseer and Margaret in new combinations of trouble; and Igot little refreshment. 

"Now you have waked up, Miss Daisy?" said Margaret when Iopened my eyes. "That poundin' noise has done waked you!"

"What noise?"

"It's no Christian noise, " said Margaret. "What's the use ofturnin' the house into a clap of thunder like that? But a manwas makin' it o' purpose, for I went out to see; and he telledme it was to call folks to luncheon. Will you get up, MissDaisy?"

Margaret spoke as if she thought I had much better lie still;but I was weary of the comfort I had found there and disposedto try something else. I had just time to be ready, before Dr. Sandford came for me and took me to his sister-in-law. Mrs. Sandford welcomed me with great kindness, even tenderness;exclaimed at my growth; but I saw by her glance at the doctorthat my appearance in other respects struck her unfavourably. He made no answer to that, but carried us off to the luncheonroom. 

There were other people lodging in the house besides myfriends; a long table was spread. Dr. Sandford, I saw, was animmense favourite. Questions and demands upon his attentioncame thick and fast, from both ends and all sides of thetable; about all sorts of subjects and in all manner of tones, grave and gay. And he was at home to them all, but in themidst of it never forgot me. He took careful heed to myluncheon; prepared one thing, and called for another; itreminded me of a time long gone by; but it did not help me toeat. I could not eat. The last thing he did was to call for afresh raw egg, and break it into a half glass of milk. Withthis in his hand we left the dining-room. As soon as we got toMrs. Sandford's parlour he gave it to me and ordered me toswallow it. I suppose I looked dismayed. 

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Sandford. "Let me have it beaten upfor her, Grant, with some sugar; she can't take it so. "

"Daisy has done harder things, " he said. 

I saw he expected me to drink it, and so I did, I do not knowhow. 

"Thank you, " he said, smiling, as he took the glass. "Now sitdown and I will talk to you. "

"How she is growing tall, Grant!" said Mrs. Sandford. 

"Yes, " said he. "Did you sleep well, Daisy?"

"No, sir; I couldn't sleep. And then I dreamed. "

"Dreaming is not a proper way of resting. So tired you couldnot sleep?"

"I do not think it was that, Dr. Sandford. "

"Do you know what it was?"

"I think I do, " — I said, a little unwillingly. 

"She is getting very much the look of her mother, " Mrs. Sandford remarked again. "Don't you see it, Grant?"

"I see more than that, " he answered. "Daisy, do you think thisgoverness of yours has been a good governess?"

I looked wearily out of the window, and cast a weary mentallook over the four years of algebraics and philosophy, at thebright little child I saw at the further end of them. 

"I think I have grown dull, Dr. Sandford, " I said. 

He came up behind me, and put his arms round me, taking myhand in his, and spoke in quite a different tone. 

"Daisy, have you found many 'wonderful things' at Magnolia?"

I looked up, I remember, with the eagerness of a heart full ofthoughts, into his face; but I could not speak then. 

"Have you looked through a microscope since you have beenthere? and made discoveries?"

"Not in natural things, Dr. Sandford. "

"Ha!" said the doctor. "Do you want to go and take a drivewith me?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Go and get ready then, please. "

I had a very pleasant, quiet drive; the doctor showing me, ashe said, not wonderful things but new things, and taking meansto amuse me. And every day for several days I had a drive. Sometimes we went to the country, sometimes got out andexamined something in the city. There was a soothing relief init all, and in the watchful care taken of me at home, and theabsence of mathematics and philosophy. All day when notdriving or at meals, I lay on Mrs. Sandford's sofa or curledmyself up in the depth of a great easy chair, and turned overher books; or studied my own blue book which I had picked upin the car, and which was so little I had Margaret make a bigpocket in my frock to hold it. But this life was not to last. A few days was all Mrs. Sandford had to spend in Washington. 

The place I liked best to go to was the Capitol. Several timesDr. Sandford took me there, and showed me the various greatrooms, and paintings, and smaller rooms with their beautifuladornments; and I watched the workmen at work; for therenewing of the building was not yet finished. As long as hehad time to spare, Dr. Sandford let me amuse myself as Iwould; and often got me into talks which refreshed me morethan anything. Still, though I was soothed, my trouble atheart was not gone. One day we were sitting looking at thepictures in the great vestibule, when Dr. Sandford suddenlystarted a subject which put the Capitol out of my head. 

"Daisy, " said he, "was it your wish or Margaret's, that sheshould go North with you?"

"Hers, " I said, startled. 

"Then it is not yours particularly?"

"Yes, it is, Dr. Sandford, _very_ particularly. "

"How is that?" said he. 

I hesitated. I shrank from the whole subject; it was soextremely sore to me. 

"I ought to warn you, " he went on, "that if you take herfurther, she may if she likes leave you, and claim herfreedom. That is the law. If her owner takes her into the freeStates, she may remain in them if she will, whether he does ornot. "

I was silent still, for the whole thing choked me. I was quitewilling she should have her freedom, get it any way she could;but there was my father, and his pleasure and interest, whichmight not choose to lose a piece of his property — and mymother and _her_ interest and pleasure; I knew what both wouldbe. I was dumb. 

"You had not thought of this before?" the doctor went on. 

"No, sir. "

"Does it not change your mind about taking her on?"

"No, sir. "

"Did it ever occur to you, or rather, does it not occur to younow, that the girl's design in coming may have been this verypurpose of her freedom?"

"I do not think it was, " I said. 

"Even if not, it will be surely put in her head by otherpeople before she has been at the North long; and she willknow that she is her own mistress. "

I was silent still. I knew that I wished she might!

"Do you not think, " Dr. Sandford went on, "that in this viewof the case we had better send her back to Magnolia when youleave Washington?"

"No, " I said. 

"I think it would be better, " he repeated. 

"Oh, no!" I said. "Oh, no, Dr. Sandford. I can't send herback. You will not send her hack, will you?"

"Be quiet, " he said, holding fast the hand which in myearnestness I had put in his; "she is not my servant; she isyours; it is for you to say what you will do. "

"I will not send her back, " I said. 

"But it may be right to consider what would be Mr. Randolph'swish on the subject. If you take her, he may lose severalhundred dollars' worth of property; it is right for me to warnyou; would he choose to run the risk. "

I remember now what a fire at my heart sent the blood to myface. But with my hand in Dr. Sandford's, and those blue eyesof his reading me, I could not keep back my thought. 

"She ought to be her own mistress" — I said. 

A brilliant flash of expression filled the blue eyes andcrossed his face. — I could hardly tell what, before it wasgone. Quick surprise — pleasure — amusement - agreement; thefirst and the two last certainly; and the pleasure I could nothelp fancying had lent its colour to that ray of light, whichhad shot for one instant from those impenetrable eyes. Hespoke just as usual. 

"But Daisy, have you studied this question?"

"I think, I have studied nothing else, Dr. Sandford!"

"You know the girl is not yours, but your father's. "

"She isn't anybody's —" I said slowly, and with slow tearsgathering in my heart. 

"How do you mean?" said he, with again the quiver of a smileupon his lips. 

"I mean, " I said, struggling with my thoughts and myself, "Imean, that nobody could have a right to her. "

"Did not her parents belong to your father?"

"To my mother. "

"Then she does. "

"But, Dr. Sandford, " I said, "nobody can belong to anybody inthat way. "

"How do you make it out, Daisy?"

"Because, nobody can give anybody a _right_ to anybody else — inthat way. "

"Does it not give your mother a right, that the mother of thisgirl and probably her grandmother were the property of yourancestors?"

"They could not be their property justly, " I said, glad to getback to my ancestors. 

"The law made it so. "

"Not God's law, Dr. Sandford, " I said, looking up at him. 

"No? Does not that law give a man a right to what he hashonestly bought?"

"No, " I said, "it _can't_ — not if it has been dishonestlysold. "

"Explain, Daisy, " said Dr. Sandford, very quietly; but I sawthe gleam of that light in his eye again. I had gone too farto stop. I went on, ready to break my heart over the right andthe wrong I was separating. 

"I mean, the _first_ people that sold the first of thesecoloured people, —" I said. 

"Well?" said the doctor. 

"They could not have a right to sell them. "

"Yes. Well?"

"Then the people that bought them could not have a right, anymore, " I said. 

"But, Daisy, " said Dr. Sandford, "do you know that there aredifferent opinions on this very point?"

I was silent. It made no difference to me. 

"Suppose for the moment that the first people, as you say, hadno precise right to sell the men and women they brought tothis country; yet those who bought them and paid honest moneyfor them, and possessed them from generation to generation, —had not they a _right_ to pass them off upon other hands, receiving their money back again?"

"I don't know how to explain it, " I said. "I mean — if atfirst — Dr. Sandford, hadn't the people that were sold, hadn'tthey rights too?"

"Rights of what sort?"

"A right to do what they liked with themselves, and to earnmoney, and to keep their wives?"

"But those rights were lost, you know, Daisy. "

"But _could_ they be?" I said. "I mean — Dr. Sandford, forinstance, suppose somebody stole your watch from you; wouldyou lose the right to it?"

"It _seems_ to me that I should not, Daisy. "

"That is what I mean, " I said. 

"But there is another view of the case, Daisy. Take Margaret, for instance. From the time she was a child, your father's, oryour mother's, money has gone to support her; her food andclothing and living have been wholly at their expense. Doesnot that give them a right to her services? ought they not tobe repaid?"

I did not want to speak of my father and mother and Margaret. It was coming too near home. I knew the food and clothing Dr. Sandford spoke of; I knew a very few months of a northernservant's wages would have paid for it all; was this girl'swhole life to be taken from her, and by my father and mother, and for such a cause? The feeling of grief and wrong and shamegot possession of me. I was ready to break my heart in tears;but I could not show Dr. Sandford what I felt, nor confess towhat I thought of my father's action. I had the greateststruggle with myself not to give way and cry. I was very weakbodily, but I know I stood still and did not shed a tear; tillI felt Dr. Sandford's hands take hold of me. They put megently back in the chair from which I had risen. 

"What is the matter, Daisy?" he said. 

I would not speak, and he did not urge it; but I saw that hewatched me, till I gained command of myself again. 

"Shall we go home now?" he asked. 

"In a minute. Dr. Sandford, I do not think papa knows aboutall this — I do not think he knows about it as I do. I am surehe does not; and when he knows, he will think as I do. "

"Or perhaps you will think as he does. "

I was silent. I wondered if that could be possible, if I toocould have my eyes blinded as I saw other people's were. 

"Little Daisy, " said my friend the doctor, — "but you aregetting to be not _little_ Daisy. How old are you?"

"I shall be fourteen in June. "

"Fourteen. Well, it is no wonder that my friend whom I left aphilosopher at ten years old, I should find a woman atfourteen — but, Daisy, you must not take it on your heart thatyou have to teach all the ignorant and help all the distressedthat come in your way; because simply you cannot do it. "

I looked up at him. I could not tell him what I thought, because he would not, I feared, understand it. Christ came todo just such work, and His servants must have it on theirheart to do the same. I cannot tell what was in my look; but Ithought the doctor's face changed. 

"One Molly Skelton will do for one four years, " he said as herose up. "Come, Daisy. "

"But, Dr. Sandford, " I said, as I followed him, "you will notdo anything about sending Margaret back?"

"Nothing, till you do, Daisy. "

Arrived at home, the doctor made me drink a raw egg, and liedown on Mrs. Sandford's sofa; and he sat down and looked atme. 

"You are the most troublesome patient that ever I had, " saidhe. 

"I am?" I exclaimed. 

"Yes. Quite innocently. You cannot help it, Daisy; and youneed not be troubled about it. It is all in the way of myprofession. It is as if a delicate vessel of Egyptian glasswere put to do the work of an iron smelting furnace; and Ihave to think of all the possible bands and hardeningappliances that can be brought into use for the occasion. "

"I do not understand —" I said. 

"No. I suppose not. That is the worst of it. "

"But why am I all _Egyptian_ glass?" I asked. "I am not veryold. "

The doctor gave me one of those quick, bright glances andsmiles, that were very pleasant to get from him and not verycommon. There came a sort of glow and sparkle in his blue eyethen, and a wonderful winsome and gracious trick of the lips. 

"It is a very doubtful sort of a compliment, " said Mrs. Sandford. 

"I did not mean it for a compliment at all, " said the doctor. 

"I don't believe you did, " said his sister; "but what did youmean? Grant, I should like to hear you pay a compliment foronce. "

"You do not know Egyptian glass, " said the doctor. 

"No. What was it?"

"Very curious. "

"Didn't I say that you couldn't pay compliments, " said Mrs. Sandford. 

"And unlike any that is made now-a-days. There were curiouspatterns wrought in the glass, made, it is supposed, by thefusing together of rods of glass, extremely minute, ofdifferent colours; so that the pattern once formed wasineffaceable and indestructible, unless by the destruction ofthe vessel which contained it. Sometimes a layer of gold wasintroduced between the layers of glass. "

"How very curious!" said Mrs. Sandford. 

"I think I must take you into consultation, Daisy, " the doctorwent on, turning to me. "It is found, that there must be alittle delay before you can go up to take a look at Melbourne. Mrs. Sandford is obliged to stop in New York with a sicksister; how long she may be kept there it is impossible tosay. Now you would have a dull time, I am afraid; and I am indoubt whether it would not be pleasanter for you to enterschool at once. In about three months the school term will endand the summer vacation begin; by that time Mrs. Sandford willbe at home and the country ready to receive you. But you shalldo whichever you like best. "

"Mrs. Sandford will be in New York?" I said. 

"Yes. "

"And I would see you constantly, dear, and have you with meall the Saturdays and Sundays and holidays. And if you like itbetter, you shall be with me all the time; only I should beobliged to leave you alone too much. "

"How long does the summer vacation last?" I inquired. 

"Till some time in September. You can enter school now, orthen, as you choose. "

I thought and hesitated, and said I would enter at once. Dr. Sandford said I was not fit for it, but it was on the wholethe best plan. So it was arranged; that I should just wait aday or two in New York to get my wardrobe in order and thenbegin my school experience. 

But my thoughts went back afterwards, more than once, to theformer conversation; and I wondered what it was about me thatmade Dr. Sandford liken me to Egyptian glass. 

CHAPTER IX. 

SHOPPING. 

It was settled that I should wait a day or two in New York toget my wardrobe arranged, and then begin my school experience. But when we got to New York, we found Mrs. Sandford's sisterso ill as to claim her whole time. There was none to spare forme and my wardrobe. Mrs. Sandford said I must attend to itmyself as well as I could, and the doctor would go with me. Hewas off duty, he reported, and at leisure for ladies' affairs. Mrs. Sandford told me what I would need. A warm school dress, she said; for the days would be often cold in this latitudeuntil May, and even later; and schoolrooms not always warm. Awarm dress for every day was the first thing. A fine merino, Mrs. Sandford said, would be, she thought, what my motherwould choose. I had silks which might be warm enough for otheroccasions. Then I must have a thick coat or cloak. Long coats, with sleeves, were fashionable then, she told me; the doctorwould take me where I would find plenty to choose from. And Ineeded a hat, or a bonnet. Unless, Mrs. Sandford said, I choseto wear my riding cap with the feather; that was warm, andvery pretty, and would do. 

How much would it all cost? I asked. Mrs. Sandford made arapid calculation. The merino would be two dollars a yard, shesaid; the coat might be got for thirty-five or thereaboutssufficiently good; the hat was entirely what I chose to makeit. "But you know, my dear, " Mrs. Sandford said, "the sort ofquality and style your mother likes, and you will be guided bythat. "

Must I be guided by that? — I questioned with myself. Yes, Iknew. I knew very well; but I had other things to think of. Ipondered. While I was pondering, Dr. Sandford was quietlyopening his pocket-book and unfolding a roll of bills. He puta number of them into my hand. 

"That will cover it all, Daisy, " he said. "It is money yourfather has made over to my keeping, for this and similarpurposes. "

"Oh, thank you !" I said, breathless; and then I counted thebills. "Oh, thank you, Dr. Sandford! but may I spend allthis?"

"Certainly. Mr. Randolph desired it should go, this and moreof it, to your expenses, of whatever kind. This covers mysister's estimate, and leaves something for your pocketbesides. "

"And when shall we go?" I asked. 

"To spend it? Now, if you like. Why, Daisy, I did now know —"

"What, sir?" I said as he paused. 

"Really, nothing, " he said, smiling. "Somehow I had notfancied that you shared the passion of your sex for what theycall _shopping_. You are all alike, in some things. "

"I like it very much to-day, " I said. 

"It would be safe, for you to keep Daisy's money in your ownpocket, Grant, " Mrs. Sandford said. "It will be stolen fromher, certainly. "

The doctor smiled and stretched out his hand; I put the billsinto it; and away we went. My head was very busy. I knew, asMrs. Sandford said, the sort and style of purchases my motherwould make and approve; but then on the other hand theremembrance was burnt into me, whence that money came which Iwas expected to spend so freely, and what other uses and callsfor it there were, even in the case of those very people whosehands had earned it for us. Not to go further, Margaret'swardrobe needed refitting quite as much as mine. She was quiteas unaccustomed as I to the chills and blasts of a coldclimate, and full as a unfurnished to meet them. I had seenher draw her thin checked shawl around her, when I knew it wasnot enough to save her from the weather, and that she had nomore. And her gowns, of thin cotton stuff, such as she woreabout her housework at Magnolia, were a bare provision againstthe nipping bite of the air here at the North. Yet nobodyspoke of any addition to _her_ stock of clothes. It was on myheart alone. But now it was in my hand too, and I felt veryglad; though just how to manage Dr. Sandford I did not know. Ithought a great deal about the whole matter as we went throughthe streets; as I had also thought long before; and my mindwas clear, that while so many whom I knew needed the money, orwhile _any_ whom I knew needed it, I would spend no uselessdollars upon myself. How should I manage Dr. Sandford? Therehe was, my cash-keeper; and I had not the least wish to unfoldmy plans to him. 

"I suppose the dress is the first thing, Daisy, " he said, aswe entered the great establishment where everything was to behad; and he inquired for the counter where we should findmerinos. I had no objection ready. 

"What colour, Daisy?"

"I want something dark —"

"Something dark and bright, " said the doctor, seating himself. "And fine quality. Not green, Daisy, if I might advise. It istoo cold. "

"Cold!" said I. 

"For this season. It is a very nice colour in summer, Daisy, "he said, smiling. 

And he looked on in a kind of amused way, while the clerk ofthe merinos and I confronted each other. There was displayednow before me a piece of claret-coloured stuff; "dark andbright ;" a beautiful tint, and a very beautiful piece ofgoods. I knew enough of the matter to know that. Fine andthick and lustrous, it just suited my fancy; I knew it wasjust what my mother would buy; I saw Dr. Sandford's eye watchme in its amusement with a glance of expectation. But thestuff was two dollars and a quarter a yard. Yes, it suited meexactly; but what was to become of others if I were covered soluxuriously? And how could I save money if I spent it? It washard to speak, too, before that shopman, who held the merinoin his hand expecting me to say I would take it; but I had noway to escape that trouble. I turned from the rich folds ofclaret stuff, to the doctor at my side. 

"Dr. Sandford, " I said, "I want to get something that will notcost so much. 

"Does it not please you?" he asked. 

"Yes; I like it; but I want some stuff that will not cost somuch. "

"This is not far above my sister's estimate, Daisy. "

"No —" I said. 

"And the difference is a trifle — if you like the piece. "

"I like it, " I said; "but it is very much above my estimate. "

"You had one of your own!" said the doctor. "Do you likesomething else here better? — or what is your estimate, Daisy?"

"I do not want a poor merino, " I said. "I would rather getsome other stuff — if I can. I do not want to give more than adollar. "

"The young lady may find what will suit her at the plaidcounter, " said the shopman, letting fall the rich drapery hehad been holding up. — "Just round that corner, sir, to theleft. "

Dr. Sandford led the way, and I followed. There certainly Ifound a plenty of warm stuffs, in various patterns andcolours, and with prices as various. But nothing to match thegrave elegance of those claret folds. It was coming down astep, to leave that counter for this. I knew it perfectlywell; while I sought out the simplest and prettiest dark smallplaid I could find. 

"Do you like these things better?" the doctor asked meprivately. 

"No, sir, " I said. 

"Then why come here, Daisy? Pardon me, may I ask?"

"I have other things to get, Dr. Sandford, " I said low. 

"But, Daisy!" said the doctor, rousing up, — "I have performedmy part ill. You are not restricted — your father has notrestricted you. I am your banker for whatever sums you mayneed — for whatever purposes. "

"Yes, " I said; "I know. Oh no, I know papa has not restrictedyou; but I think I ought not to spend any more. It is my ownaffair. "

"And not mine. Pardon me, Daisy; I submit. "

"Dr. Sandford, don't speak so!" I said. "I don't mean that. Imean, it is my own affair and not papa's. "

"Certainly, I have no more to say, " said the doctor, smiling. 

"I will tell you about it, " — I said; and then I desired theshopman to cut off the dress I had fixed upon; and we went upstairs to look for cloaks; I feeling hot and confused and halfperplexed. I had never worn such a dress as this plaid I hadbought, in my life. It was nice and good, and pretty too; butit did not match the quality or the elegance of the things mymother always had got for me. _She_ would not have liked it norlet me wear it; I knew that; but then — whence came the wealththat flowed over in such exquisite forms upon her and upon me?were not its original and proper channels bare? And whencewere they to be, even in any measure, refilled, if all thesupply must, as usual, be led off in other directions? I musedas I went up the stair, feeling perplexed nevertheless at thestrangeness of the work I was doing, and with something in myheart giving a pull to my judgment towards the side of whatwas undoubtedly "pleasant to the eyes. " So I followed Dr. Sandford up the stair and into the wilderness of the cloakdepartment; where all manner of elegancies, in silk and velvetand cloth, were displayed in orderly confusion. It was awilderness to me, in the mood of my thoughts. Was I going torepeat here the process just gone through down stairs?

The doctor seated me, asked what I wanted to see, and gave theorder. And forthwith my eyes were regaled with a variety oftemptations. A nice little black silk pelisse was hung on thestand opposite me; it was nice; a good gloss was upon thesilk, the article was in the neatest style, and trimmed withgreat simplicity. I would have been well satisfied to wearthat. By its side was displayed another of velvet; then yetanother of very fine dark cloth; perfect in material and make, faultless in its elegance of finish. But the silk was forty-five, and the cloth was forty, and the velvet was sixtydollars. I sat and looked at them. There is no denying that Iwanted the silk or the cloth. Either of them would do. Eitherof them was utterly girl-like and plain, but both of them hadthe finish of perfection, in make, style, and material. Iwanted the one or the other. But, if I had it, what would beleft for Margaret?

"Are you tired, Daisy?" said Dr. Sandford, bending down tolook in my face. 

"No, sir. At least, that is not what I was thinking of. "

"What then?" said he. "Will one of these do?"

"They would do, " I said slowly. "But, Dr. Sandford, I shouldlike to see something else — something that would do forsomebody that was poorer than I. "

"Poorer?" said the doctor, looking funny. "What is the matter, Daisy? Have you suddenly become bankrupt? You need not beafraid, for the bank is in my pocket; and I know it will standall your demands upon it. "

"No, but — I would indeed, if you please, Dr. Sandford. Thesethings cost too much for what I want now. "

"Do you like them?"

"I like them very well. "

"Then take one, whichever you like best. That is my advice toyou, Daisy. The bank will bear it. "

"I think I must not. Please, Dr. Sandford, I should like tosee something that would not cost so much. Do they _all_ cost asmuch as these?"

The doctor gave the order, as I desired. The shopman who wasserving us cast another comprehensive glance at me — I hadseen him give one at the beginning — and tossing off thevelvet coat and twisting off the silk one, he walked away. Presently came back with a brown silk which he hung in theplace of the velvet one, and a blue cloth, which replaced theblack silk. Every whit as costly, and almost as pretty, bothof them. 

"No, " said the doctor, — "you mistook me. We want to look atsome goods fitted for persons who have not long purses. "

"Something inferior to these —" said the man. He was notuncivil; he just stated the fact. In accordance with which hereplaced the last two coats with a little grey dreadnought, and a black cloth; the first neat and rough, the last not tobe looked at. It was not in good taste, and a sort of thingthat I neither had worn nor could wear. But the greydreadnought was simple and warm and neat, and would offendnobody. I looked from it to the pretty black cloth which stillhung opposed to it, the one of the first two. Certainly, instyle and elegance _this_ looked like my mother's child, and theother did not. But this was forty dollars. The dreadnought wasexactly half that sum. I had a little debate with myself — Iremember it, for it was my first experience of that kind ofthing — and all my mother's training had refined in me thesense of what was elegant and fitting, in dress as well as inother matters. Until now, I had never had my fancy crossed byanything I ever had to wear. The little grey dreadnought — howwould it go with my silk dresses? It was like what I had seenother people dressed in; never my mother or me. Yet it wasperfectly fitting a lady's child, if she could not affordother; and where was Margaret's cloak to come from? And whohad the best right? I pondered and debated, and then I toldDr. Sandford I would have the grey coat. I believe I halfwished he would make some objection; but he did not; he paidfor the dreadnought and ordered it sent home; and then I beganto congratulate myself that Margaret's comfort was secure. 

"Is that all, Daisy?" my friend asked. 

"Dr. Sandford, " said I, standing up and speaking low, "I wantto find — can I find here, do you think? — a good warm cloakand dress for Margaret. "

"For Margaret!" said the doctor. 

"Yes; she is not used to the cold, you know; and she hasnothing to keep her comfortable. "

"But, Daisy!" said the doctor, — "Sit down here again; I mustunderstand this. Was _Margaret_ at the bottom of all thesefinancial operations?"

"I knew she wanted something, ever since we came fromWashington, " I said. 

"Daisy, she could have had it. "

"Yes, Dr. Sandford; — but —"

"But what, if you will be so good?"

"I think it was right for me to get it. "

"I am sorry I do not agree with you at all. It was for _me_ toget it — I am supplied with funds, Daisy — and your father hasentrusted to me the making of all arrangements which are inany way good for your comfort. I think, with your leave, Ishall reverse these bargains. Have you been all this timepleasing Margaret and not yourself?"

"No, sir, " I said, — "if you please. I cannot explain it, Dr. Sandford; but I know it is right. "

"What is right, Daisy? My faculties are stupid. "

"No, sir; but — let it be as it is, please. "

"But won't you explain it? I ought to know what I am giving myconsent to, Daisy; for just now I am constituted yourguardian. What has Margaret to do with your cloaks? There isenough for both. "

"But, " said I, in a great deal of difficulty, — "there is notenough for me and everybody. "

"Are you going to take care of the wants of everybody?"

"I think — I ought to take care of all that I can, " I said. 

"But you have not the power. "

"I won't do but what I _have_ the power for. "

"Daisy, what would your father and mother say to such a courseof action? would they allow it, do you think?"

"But _you_ are my guardian now, Dr. Sandford, " — I said, lookingup at him. He paused a minute doubtfully. 

"I am conquered!" he said. "You have absolutely conquered me, Daisy. I have not a word to say. I wonder if that is the wayyou are going through the world in future? What is it nowabout Margaret? — for I was bewildered and did notunderstand. "

"A warm cloak and dress, " I said, delighted; "that is what Iwant. Can I get them here?"

"Doubtful, I should say, " the doctor answered; "but we willtry. "

And we did succeed in finding the dress, strong and warm andsuitable; the cloak we had to go to another shop for. On theway we stopped at the milliner's. My aunt Gary and Mrs. Sandford employed the same one. 

"I put it in your hands, Daisy!" Dr. Sandford said, as we wentin. "Only let me look on. "

I kept him waiting a good while, I am afraid; but he was verypatient and seemed amused. I was not. The business was verytroublesome to me. This was not so easy a matter as to choosebetween stuffs and have the yards measured off. Bonnets arebonnets, as my aunt always said; and things good in themselvesmay not be in the least good for you. And I found the thingthat suited was even more tempting here than it had been inthe cloak ware-room. There was a little velvet hat which Ifancied mamma would have bought for me; it was so stylish, andat the same time so simple, and became me so well. But it wasof a price corresponding with its beauty. I turned my back onit, though I seemed to see it just as well through the backof my head, and tried to find something else. The millinerwould have it there was nothing beside that fitted me. The hatmust go on. 

"She has grown, " said the milliner, appealing to Dr. Sandford;"and you see this is the very thing. This tinge of colourinside is just enough to relieve the pale cheeks. Do you see, sir?"

"It is without a fault, " said the doctor. 

"Take it off, please, " I said. "I want to find something thatwill not cost so much — something that will not cost near somuch. "

"There is that cap that is too large for Miss Van Allen —" themilliner's assistant remarked. 

"It would not suit Mrs. Randolph at all, " was the answeraside. 

But I begged to see it. Now this was a comfortable, softquilted silk cap, with a chinchilla border. Not much styleabout it, but also nothing to dislike, except its simplicity. The price was moderate, and it fitted me. 

You are going to be a different Daisy Randolph from what youhave been all your life — something whispered to me. And thedoctor said, "That makes you look about ten years old again, Daisy. " I had a minute of doubt and delay; then I said I wouldhave the cap; and the great business was ended. 

Margaret's purchases were all found, and we went home, withmoney still in my bank, Dr. Sandford informed me. I was verytired; but on the whole I was very satisfied. Till my thingscame home, and I saw that Mrs. Sandford did not like them. 

"I wish I could have been with you!" she said. 

"What is the matter?" said the doctor. It was the evening, andwe were all together for a few minutes, before Mrs. Sandfordwent to her sister. 

"Did you choose these things, Grant?"

"What is the matter with them?"

"They are hardly suitable. "

"For the third time, what is the matter with them?" said thedoctor. 

"They are neat, but they are not _handsome_. "

"They will look handsome when they are on, " said Dr. Sandford. 

"No, they won't; they will look common. I don't mean _vulgar_ —you could not buy anything in bad taste — but they are justwhat anybody's child might wear. "

"Then Mrs. Randolph's child might. "

Mrs. Sandford gave him a look. "That is just the thing, " shesaid. "Mrs. Randolph's child might _not_. I never saw anybodymore elegant or more particular about the choice of her dressthan Mrs. Randolph; it is always perfect; and Daisy's alwayswas. Mrs. Randolph would not like these. "

"Shall we change them, Daisy?" said the doctor. 

I said "no —". 

"Then I hope they will wear out before Mrs. Randolph comeshome, " he said. 

All this, somehow, made me uncomfortable. I went off to theroom which had been given to me, where a fire was kept; and Isat down to think. Certainly, I would have liked the othercoat and hat better, that I had rejected; and the thought ofthe rich soft folds of that silky merino were not pleasant tome. The plaid I had bought _did_ wear a common look incomparison. I knew it, quite as well as Mrs. Sandford; andthat I had never worn common things; and I knew that in themerino, properly made; I should have looked my mother's child;and that in the plaid my mother would not know me. Was Iright? was I wrong? I knelt down before the fire, feeling thatthe straight path was not always easy to find. Yet I hadthought I saw it before me. I knelt before the fire, which wasthe only light in the room, and opened the page of my dearlittle book that had the Bible lessons for every day. Thisday's lesson was headed, "That ye adorn the doctrine of Godour Saviour in all things. "

The mist began to clear away. Between adorning and beingadorned, the difference was so great, it set my face quiteanother way directly. I went on. "Let your conversation be asit becometh the gospel of Christ. "

And how should that be? Certainly the spirit of that gospelhad no regard to self-glorification; and had most tenderregard to the wants of others. I began to feel sure that I wasin the way and not out of it. Then came — "If ye be reproachedfor the name of Christ, happy are ye. But let none of yousuffer . . . _as a thief, or as an evildoer_" — "Let your lightso shine before men" — "Let not mercy and truth forsake thee;bind them about thy neck;" — "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are _just_ . . . Think on these things. "

The words came about me, binding up my doubts, making sound myheart, laying a soft touch upon every rough spot in mythoughts. True, honest, just, lovely, and of good report —yes, I would think on these things, and I would not be turnedaside from them. And if I suffered as a Christian, Idetermined that I would not be ashamed; I prayed that I mightnever; I would take as no dishonour the laughter or thecontempt of those who did not see the two sides of thequestion; but as a _thief_ I would not suffer. I earnestlyprayed that I might not. No beauty of dresses or stylishnessof coats or bonnets should adorn me, the price of which Godsaw belonged and was due to the suffering of others; moreespecially, to the wants of those whose wants made my supply. That my father and mother, with the usage of old habit, andthe influence of universal custom, should be blind to what Isaw so clearly, made no difference in my duty. I had the lightof the Bible rule, which was not yet, I knew, the lamp totheir feet. I must walk by it, all the same. And my thoughtwent back now with great tenderness to mammy Theresa'srheumatism, which wanted flannel; to Maria's hyacinths, whichwere her great earthly interest, out of the things of religion;to Darry's lonely cottage, where he had no lamp to read theBible o' nights, and no oil to burn in it. To Pete's solitaryhut, too, where he was struggling to learn to read well, andwhere a hymn-book would be the greatest comfort to him. To theold people, whose one solace of a cup of tea would be goneunless I gave it them; to the boys who were learning to read, who wanted testaments; to the bed-ridden and sick who wantedblankets; to the young and well who wanted gowns (not indeedfor decency, but for the natural pleasure of looking neat andsmart) — and to Margaret, first and last, who was nearest tome, and who, I began to think, might want some other triflesbesides a cloak. The girl came in at the minute. 

"Margaret, " I said, "I have got you a warm gown and a goodthick warm cloak, to-day. "

"A cloak! Miss Daisy —" Margaret's lips just parted and showedthe white beneath. 

"Yes. I saw you were not warm in that thin shawl. "

"It's mighty cold up these ways! —" the girl's shoulders drewtogether with involuntary expression. 

"And now, Margaret, what other things do you want, to be niceand comfortable? You must tell me now, because after I go toschool I cannot see you often, you know. "

"Reckon I find something to do at the school, Miss Daisy. Aintthere servants?"

"Yes, but I am afraid there may not be another wanted. Whatelse ought you to have, Margaret?"

"Miss Daisy knows, I'll hire myself out, and reckon I'll get aright smart chance of wages; and then, if Miss Daisy let metake some change, I'd like to get some things —"

"You may keep all your wages, Margaret, " I said hastily; "youneed not bring them to me; but I want to know if you have allyou need now, to be nice and warm?"

" 'Spect I'd be better for some underclothes —" Margaret said, half under her breath. 

Of course! I knew it the moment she said it. I knew thescanty, coarse supply which was furnished to the girls andwomen at Magnolia; I knew that more was needed for neatness aswell as for comfort, and something different, now that she waswhere no evil distinction would arise from her having it. — Isaid I would get what she wanted; and went away back to theparlour. I mused as I went. If I let Margaret keep her wages —and I was very certain I could not receive them from her — Imust be prepared to answer it to my father. Perhaps, — yes, Ifelt sure as I thought about it — I must contrive to save theamount of her wages out of what was given to myself; or elsemy grant might be reversed and my action disallowed, or atleast greatly disapproved. And my father had given me no rightto dispose of Margaret's wages, or of herself. 

So I came into the parlour. Dr. Sandford alone was there, lying on the sofa. He jumped up immediately; pulled a greatarm chair near to the fire, and taking hold of me, put me intoit. My purchases were lying on the table, where they had beendisapproved; but I knew what to think of them now. I couldlook at them very contentedly. 

"How do they seem, Daisy?" said the doctor, stretching himselfon the cushions again, after asking my permission and pardon. 

"Very well" — I said, smiling. 

"You are satisfied?"

I said "yes. "

"Daisy, " said he, "you have conquered me to-day — I haveyielded — I own myself conquered; but, won't you enlighten me?As a matter of favour?"

"About what, Dr. Sandford?"

"I don't understand you. "

I remember looking at him and smiling. It was so curious athing, both that he should, in his philosophy, be puzzled by achild like me, and that he should care about undoing thepuzzle. 

"There!" said he, — "that is my old little Daisy of ten yearsold. Daisy, I used to think she was an extremely dainty andparticular little person. "

"Yes —" said I. 

"Was that correct?"

"I don't know, " said I. "I think it was. "

"Then, Daisy, honestly, — I am asking as a philosopher, andthat means a lover of knowledge, you know, — did you choosethose articles to-day to please yourself?"

"In one way, I did, " I answered. 

"Did they appear to you as they did to Mrs. Sandford, — at thetime?"

"Yes, Dr. Sandford. "

"So I thought. — Then, Daisy, will you make me understand it?For I am puzzled. "

I was sorry that he cared about the puzzle, for I did not wantto go into it. I was almost sure he would not make it out if Idid. 

However, he lay there looking at me and waiting. 

"Those other things cost too much, Dr. Sandford — that wasall. "

"There is the puzzle!" said the doctor. "You had the money inyour bank for them, and money for Margaret's things too, andmore if you wanted it; and no bottom to the bank at all, sofar as I could see. And you like pretty things, Daisy, and youdid not choose them. "

"No, sir. "

I hesitated, and he waited. How was I to tell him. He wouldsimply find it ridiculous. And then I thought — "If any of yousuffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed. "

"I thought I should be comfortable in these things, Dr. Sandford, " I then said, glancing at the little chinchilla capwhich lay on the table; — "and respectable. And there wereother people who needed all the money the other things wouldhave cost. "

"What other people?" said the doctor. "As I am your guardian, Daisy, it is proper for me to ask, and not impertinent. "

I hesitated again. "I was thinking, " I said, "of some of thepeople I left at Magnolia. "

"Do you mean the servants?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Daisy, they are cared for. "

I was silent. 

"What do you think they want?"

"Some that are sick want comfort, " I said; "and others who arenot sick want help; and others, I think, want a littlepleasure. " I would fain not have spoken, but how could I helpit? The doctor brought his feet off the sofa and sat up andconfronted me. 

"In the meantime, " he said, "you are to be 'comfortable andrespectable. ' But, Daisy, do you think your father and motherwould be satisfied with such a statement of your condition?"

"I suppose not, " I was obliged to say. 

"Then do you think it is proper for me to allow such to be thefact?"

I looked at him. What there was in my look it is impossiblefor me to say; but he laughed a little. 

"Yes, " he said, — "I know — you have conquered me to-day. Iown myself conquered — but the question I ask you is, whetherI am justifiable?"

"I think that depends, " I answered, on whether I amjustifiable. "

"Can you justify yourself, Daisy?" — he said, bringing hishand clown gently over my smooth hair and touching my cheek. It would have vexed me from anybody else; it did not vex mefrom him. "Can you justify yourself, Daisy?" he repeated. 

"Yes, sir, " I said; but I felt troubled. 

"Then do it. "

"Dr. Sandford, the Bible says, 'Whatsoever ye would that menshould do to you, do ye even so to them. ' "

"Well?" said he, refusing to draw any conclusions for me. 

"I have more than I want, and they have not enough. I don'tthink I ought to keep more than I want. "

"But then arises the question, " said he, "how much do youwant? Where is the line, beyond which you, or I, for instance, have too much?"

"I was not speaking of anybody but myself, " I said. 

"But a rule of action which is the right one for you, would beright for everybody. "

"Yes, but everybody must apply it for himself, " I said. "I wasonly applying it for myself. "

"And applying it for yourself, Daisy, is it to cut off for thefuture — or ought it — all elegance and beauty? Must yourestrict yourself to mere 'comfort and respectability'? Arefur and feathers for instance wicked things?"

He did not speak mockingly; Dr. Sandford never could do anungentlemanly thing; he spoke kindly and with a littlerallying smile on his face. But I knew what he thought. 

"Dr. Sandford, " said I, "suppose I was a fairy, and that Istripped the gown off a poor woman's back to change it into afeather, and stole away her blankets to make them into fur;what would you think of fur and feathers then?"

There came a curious lightning through the doctor's blue eyes. I did not know in the least what it meant. 

"Do you mean to say, Daisy, that the poor people down yonderat Magnolia want such things as gowns and blankets?"

"Some do, " I said. "You know, nobody is there, Dr. Sandford, to look after them; and the overseer does not care. It wouldbe different if papa was at home. "

"I will never interfere with you any more, Daisy, " said thedoctor, — "any further than by a little very judiciousinterference; and you shall find in me the best helper I canbe to all your plans. You may use me — you have conquered me, "— said he, smiling, and laying himself back on his cushionsagain. 

I was very glad it had ended so, for I could hardly havewithstood Dr. Sandford if he had taken a different view of thematter. And his help, I knew, might be very good in gettingthings sent to Magnolia. 

CHAPTER X. 

SCHOOL. 

I had another time the next day between Mrs Sandford and themantua-maker. The mantua-maker came to take orders aboutmaking my school dress. 

"How will you have it trimmed?" she asked. "This sort of stuffwill make no sort of an appearance unless it is well trimmed. It wants that. You might have a border of dark green leaves —dark green, like the colour of this stripe — going round theskirt; that would have a good effect; the leaves set in andedged with a very small red cord, or green if you like itbetter. We trimmed a dress so last week, and it made a verygood appearance. "

"What do you say, Daisy?"

"How much will it cost?" I asked. 

"Oh, the cost is not very much, " said the milliner. "I supposewe would do it for you, Mrs. Sandford, for twenty-fivedollars. "

"That is too much, " I said. 

"You wouldn't say so, if you knew the work it is to set thoseleaves round, " said the mantua-maker. "It takes hours andhours; and the cording and all. And the silk, you know, Mrs. Sandford, _that_ costs now-a-days. It takes a full yard of thesilk, and no washy lining silk, but good stiff dress silk. Some has 'em made of velvet, but to be sure that would not besuitable for a common stuff like this. It will be very common, Mrs. Sandford, without you have it handsomely trimmed. "

"Couldn't you put some other sort of trimming?"

"Well, there's no other way that looks _distinguι_ on this sortof stuff; that's the most stylish. We could put a band of rowsof black velvet — an inch wide, or half an inch; if you haveit narrower you must put more of them; and then the sleevesand body to match; but I don't think you would like it so wellas the green leaves. A great many people has 'em trimmed so;you like it a little out of the common, Mrs. Sandford. Or, youcould have a green ribband. "

"How much would _that_ be?" said Mrs. Sandford. 

"Oh, really I don't just know, " the woman answered; "dependson the ribband; it don't make much difference to you, Mrs. Sandford; it would be — let me see, — Oh, I suppose we coulddo it with velvet for you for fifteen or twenty dollars. Yousee, there must be buttons or rosettes at the joinings of thevelvets; and those come very expensive. "

"How much would it be, to make the dress plain?" I asked. 

"_That_ would be plain, " the mantua-maker answered quickly. "Thestyle is, to trim everything very much. Oh, that would bequite plain, with the velvet. "

"But without any trimming at all?" I asked. "How much wouldthat be?" I felt an odd sort of shame at pressing thequestion; yet I knew I must. 

"Without trimming!" said the woman. "Oh, you could not have it_without trimming;_ there is nothing made without trimming; itwould have no appearance at all. People would think you hadcome out of the country. No young ladies have their dressesmade without trimming this winter. "

"Mrs. Sandford, " said I, "I should like to know what the dresswould be without trimming. "

"What would it be, Melinda?" The woman was only a forewoman ofher establishment. 

"Oh, well, Mrs. Sandford, the naked dress I have no doubtcould be made for you for five dollars. "

"You would not have it _so_, Daisy, my dear?" said Mrs. Sandford. 

But I said I would have it so. It cost me a little difficulty, and a little shrinking, I remember, to choose this and to holdto it in the face of the other two. It was the last battle ofthat campaign. I had my way; but I wondered privately tomyself whether I was going to look very unlike the children ofother ladies in my mother's position; and whether suchseverity over myself was really needed. I turned the questionover again in my own room, and tried to find out why ittroubled me. I could not quite tell. Yet I thought, as I wasdoing what I knew to be duty, I had no right to feel thistrouble about it. The trouble wore off before a little thoughtof my poor friends at Magnolia. But the question came up againat dinner. 

"Daisy, " said Mrs. Sandford, "did you ever have anything to dowith the Methodists?"

"No, ma'am, " I said, wondering. "What are the Methodists?"

"I don't know, I am sure, " she said, laughing; "only they arepeople who sing hymns a great deal, and teach that nobodyought to wear gay dresses. "

"Why?" I asked. 

"I can't say. I believe they hold that the Bible forbidsornamenting ourselves. "

I wondered if it did; and determined I would look, And Ithought the Methodists must be nice people. 

"What is on the carpet now?" said the doctor. "Singing ordressing? You are attacking Daisy, I see, on some score. "

"She won't have her dress trimmed, " said Mrs. Sandford. 

The doctor turned round to me, with a wonderful genialpleasant expression of his fine face; and his blue eye, that Ialways liked to meet full, going through me with a sort ofsoft power. He was not smiling, yet his look made me smile. 

"Daisy, " said he, "are you going to make yourself unlike otherpeople?"

"Only my dress, Dr. Sandford, " I said. 

"L'habit, c'est l'homme! —" he answered gravely, shaking hishead. 

I remembered his question and words many times in the courseof the next six months. 

In a day or two more my dress was done, and Dr. Sandford wentwith me to introduce me at the school. He had already made thenecessary arrangements. It was a large establishment, reckonedthe most fashionable, and at the same time one of the mostthorough, in the city; the house, or houses, standing in oneof the broad clear Avenues, where the streams of human lifethat went up and down were all of the sort that wore trimmeddresses and rolled about in handsome carriages. Just in thecentre and height of the thoroughfare Mme. Ricard'sestablishment looked over it. We went in at a stately doorway, and were shown into a very elegant parlour; where at a grandpiano a young lady was taking a music lesson. The noise wasvery disagreeable; but that was the only disagreeable thing inthe place. Pictures were on the walls, a soft carpet on thefloor; the colours of carpet and furniture were dark and rich;books and trinkets and engravings in profusion gave the lookof cultivated life and the ease of plenty. It was not what Ihad expected; nor was Mme. Ricard, who came in noiselessly andstood before us while I was considering the wonderfulmoustache of the music teacher. I saw a rather short, graveperson, very plainly dressed, — but indeed I never thought ofthe dress she wore. The quiet composure of the figure, waswhat attracted me, and the peculiar expression of the face. Itwas sad, almost severe; so I thought it at first; till a smileonce for an instant broke upon the lips, like a flittingsunbeam out of a cloudy sky; then I saw that kindliness wasquite at home there, and sympathy and a sense of merrimentwere not wanting; but the clouds closed again, and the look ofcare, or sorrow, I could not quite tell what it was, only thatit was unrest, retook its place on brow and lip. The eye Ithink never lost it. Yet it was a searching and commandingeye; I was sure it knew how to rule. 

The introduction was soon made, and Dr. Sandford bid me goodbye. I felt as if my best friend was leaving me; the only oneI had trusted in since my father and mother had gone away. Isaid nothing, but perhaps my face showed my thought, for hestooped and kissed me. 

"Good bye, Daisy. Remember, I shall expect a letter everyfortnight. "

He had ordered me before to write him as often as that, andgive him a minute account of myself; how many studies I waspursuing, how many hours I gave to them each day, whatexercise I took, and what amusement; and how I throve withal. Mme. Ricard had offered to show me my room, and we weremounting the long stairs while I thought this over. 

"Is Dr. Sandford your cousin, Miss Randolph?" was the questionwhich came in upon my thoughts. 

"No, ma'am, " I answered in extreme surprise. 

"Is he any relation to you?"

"He is my guardian. "

"I think Dr. Sandford told me that your father and mother areabroad?"

"Yes, ma'am; and Dr. Sandford is my guardian. "

We had climbed two flights of stairs, and I was panting. As wewent up, I had noticed a little unusual murmur of noises whichtold me I was in a new world. Little indistinguishable noises, the stir and hum of the busy hive into which I had entered. Now and then a door had opened, and a head or a figure cameout; but as instantly went back again on seeing Madame, andthe door was softly closed. We reached the third floor. Therea young lady appeared at the further end of the gallery, andcurtseyed to my conductress. 

"Miss Bentley, " said Madame, "this is your new companion, MissRandolph. Will you be so good as to show Miss Randolph herroom?"

Madame turned and left us, and the young lady led me into theroom she had just quitted. A large room, light and bright, andpleasantly furnished; but the one thing that struck myunaccustomed eyes was the evidence of fulness of occupation. One bed stood opposite the fireplace; another across the headof that, between it and one of the windows; a third wasbetween the doors on the inner side of the room. Moreover, thefirst and the last of these were furnished with two pillowseach. I did not in the moment use my arithmetic; but thefeeling which instantly pressed upon me was that of want ofbreath. 

"This is the bed prepared for you, I believe, " said mycompanion civilly, pointing to the third one before thewindow. "There isn't room for anybody to turn, round herenow. "

I began mechanically to take off my cap and gloves, lookinghard at the little bed, and wondering what other rights ofpossession were to be given me in this place. I saw awashstand in one window and a large mahogany wardrobe on oneside of the fireplace; a dressing table or chest of drawersbetween the windows. Everything was handsome and nice;everything was in the neatest order; but — where were myclothes to go? Before I had made up my mind to ask, there camea rush into the room; I supposed, of the other inmates. Onewas a very large, fat, dull-faced girl; I should have thoughther a young woman, only that she was here in a school. Another, bright and pretty and very good-humoured if there wasany truth ill her smiling black eyes, was much slighter andsomewhat younger; a year or two in advance of myself. Thethird was a girl about my own age, shorter and smaller than I, with also a pretty face, but an eye that I was not so sure of. She was the last one to come in, and she immediately stoppedand looked at me; I thought, with no pleasure. 

"This is Miss Randolph, girls, " said Miss Bentley. "MissRandolph, Miss Macy. "

I curtseyed to the fat girl, who gave me a little nod. 

"I am glad she isn't as big as I am, " was her comment on theintroduction. I was glad, too. 

"Miss Lansing —"

This was bright-eyes, who bowed and smiled — she always smiled— and said, "How do you do?" Then rushed off to a drawer insearch of something. 

"Miss St. Clair, will you come and be introduced to MissRandolph?"

The St. Clair walked up demurely and took my hand. Her wordswere in abrupt contrast. "Where are her things going, MissBentley?" I wondered that pretty lips could be so ungracious. It was not temper which appeared on them, but cool rudeness. 

"Madame said we must make some room for her, " Miss Bentleyanswered. 

"I don't know where, " remarked Miss Macy. "_I_ have not twoinches. "

"She can't have a peg nor a drawer of mine, " said the St. Clair. "Don't you put her there, Bentley. " And the young ladyleft us with that. 

"We must manage it somehow, " said Miss Bentley. "Lansing, lookhere, — can't you take your things out of this drawer? MissRandolph has no place to lay anything. She must have a littleplace, you know. "

Lansing looked up with a perplexed face, and Miss Macyremarked that nobody had a bit of room to lay anything. 

"I am very sorry —" I said. 

"It is no use being sorry, child, " said Miss Macy, "we havegot to fix it, somehow. I know who _ought_ to be sorry. Here — Ican take this pile of things out of this drawer; that is all Ican do. Can't she manage with this half?"

But Miss Lansing came and made her arrangements, and then itwas found that the smallest of the four drawers was clearedand ready for my occupation. 

"But if we give you a whole drawer, " said Miss Macy, "you mustbe content with one peg in the wardrobe — will you?"

"Oh, and she can have one or two hooks in the closet, " saidbright-eyes. "Come here, Miss Randolph — I will show you —"

And there in the closet I found was another place for washing, with cocks for hot and cold water; and a press and plenty ofiron hooks; with also plenty of dresses and hats hanging onthem. Miss Lansing moved and changed several of these, tillshe had cleared a space for me. 

"There —" she said, "now you'll do, won't you? I don't believeyou can get a scrap of a corner in the wardrobe; Macy andBentley and St. Clair take it up so. _I_ haven't but one dresshanging there, but you've got a whole drawer in the bureau. "

I was not very awkward and clumsy in my belongings, but anelephant could scarcely have been more bewildered if he hadbeen requested to lay his proboscis up in a glove box. "Icannot put a dress in the drawer, " I remarked. 

"Oh, you can hang one up, here, under your cap; and that isall any of us do. Our things, all except our everyday things, go down stairs in our trunks. Have you many trunks?"

I told her no, only one. I did not know why it was a littledisagreeable to me to say that. The feeling came and passed. Ihung up my coat and cap, and brushed my hair; my new companionlooking on. Without any remark, however, she presently rushedoff, and I was left alone. I began to appreciate that. I satdown on the side of my little bed, — to my fancy the verychairs were appropriated, — and looked at my new place in theworld. 

Five of us in that room! I had always had the comfort of greatspace and ample conveniences about me; was it a luxury I hadenjoyed? It had seemed nothing more than a necessity. And now, must I dress and undress myself before so many spectators?could I not lock up anything that belonged to me? were all mynice and particular habits to be crushed into one drawer andsmothered on one or two clothes pins? Must everything I did beseen? And above all, where could I pray? I looked round in asort of fright. There was but one closet in the room, and thatwas a washing closet, and held besides a great quantity ofother people's belongings. I could not, even for a moment, shut it against them. In a kind of terror, I looked to makesure that I was alone, and fell on my knees. It seemed to methat all I could do was to pray every minute that I shouldhave to myself. They would surely be none too many. Thenhearing a footstep somewhere, I rose again and took from mybag my dear little book. It was so small I could carry itwhere I had not room for my Bible. I looked for the page ofthe day, I remember now, with my eyes full of tears. 

"Be watchful" — were the first words that met me. Ay, I wassure I would need it; but how was a watch to be kept up, if Icould never be alone to take counsel with myself? I did notsee it; this was another matter from Miss Pinshon's unlockeddoor. After all, that door had not greatly troubled me; myroom had not been of late often invaded. Now I had no room. What more would my dear little book say to me?

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as aroaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. "

Was the battle to go so hard against me? and what should I dowithout that old and well-tried weapon of "all-prayer"?Nothing; I should be conquered. I must have and keep that, Iresolved; if I lay awake and got up at night to use it. Dr. Sandford would not like such a proceeding; but there wereworse dangers than the danger of lessened health. I _would_pray; but what next?

"Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently. " — "WhatI say unto you I say unto all, Watch. "

I stood by the side of my bed, dashing the tears from my eyes. Then I heard, as I thought, some one coming, and in hastelooked to see what else might be on the page; what furthermessage or warning. And something like a sunbeam of healingflashed into my heart with the next words. 

"Fear thou not: for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I amthy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, Iwill uphold thee with the right hand of My righteousness. "

"I, the Lord thy God, will hold thy right hand. "

I was healed. I put up my little book in my bag again, feelingwhole and sound. It did not matter that I was crowded andhindered and watched; for it was written also, "He preserveththe way of his saints;" and I was safe. 

I sat a little while longer alone. Then came a rush and rustleof many feet upon the stairs, many dresses moving, many voicesblending in a little soft roar; as ominous as the roar of thesea which one hears in a shell. My four room-mates poured intothe room, accompanied by one or two others; very busy andeager about their affairs that they were discussing. Meanwhilethey all began to put themselves in order. 

"The bell will ring for tea directly, " said Miss Macy, addressing herself to me, — "are you ready?"

"Tisn't much trouble to fix _her_ hair —" said my friend withthe black eyes. 

Six pair of eyes for a moment were turned upon me. 

"You are too old to have your hair so, " remarked Miss Bentley. "You ought to let it grow. "

"Why don't you?" said Miss Lansing. 

"She is a Roundhead, " said the St. Clair, brushing her owncurls; which were beautiful and crinkled all over her head, while my hair was straight. "I don't suppose she ever saw aCavalier before. "

"St. Clair, you are too bad!" said Miss Mary. "Miss Randolphis a stranger. "

St. Clair made no answer, but finished her hair and ran off;and presently the others filed off after her; and a loudclanging bell giving the signal, I thought best to go too. Every room was pouring forth its inmates; the halls andpassages were all alive and astir. In the train of the movingcrowd, I had no difficulty to find my way to the place ofgathering. 

This was the school parlour; not the one where I had seen Mme. Ricard. Parlours, rather; there was a suite of them, threedeep; for this part of the house had a building added in therear. The rooms were large and handsome; not like schoolrooms, I thought; and yet very different from my home; forthey were bare. Carpets and curtains, sofas and chairs andtables, were in them to be sure; and even pictures; yet theywere bare; for books and matters of art and little socialluxuries were wanting, such as I had all my life beenaccustomed to, and such as filled Mme. Ricard's own rooms. However, this first evening I could hardly see how the roomslooked, for the lining of humanity which ran round all thewalls. There was a shimmer as of every colour in the rainbow;and a buzz that could only come from a hive full. I, who hadlived all my life where people spoke softly, and where manynever spoke together, was bewildered. 

The buzz hushed suddenly, and I saw Mme. Ricard's figure goingslowly down the rooms. She was in the uttermost contrast toall her household. Ladylike always, and always dignified, herstyle was her own, and I am sure that nobody ever felt thatshe had not enough. Yet Mme. Ricard had nothing about her thatwas conformed to the fashions of the day. Her dress was of asoft kind of serge, which fell around her or swept across therooms in noiseless yielding folds. Hoops were the fashion ofthe day; but Mme. Ricard wore no hoops; she went with ease andsilence where others went with a rustle and a warning to clearthe way. The back of her head was covered with a little cap asplain as a nun's cap; and I never saw an ornament about her. Yet criticism never touched Mme. Ricard. Not even thecriticism of a set of school-girls; and I had soon to learnthat there is none more relentless. 

The tea-table was set in the further room of the three. Mime. Ricard passed down to that. Presently I heard her low voicesaying, "Miss Randolph". Low as it always was, it was alwaysheard. I made my way down through the rooms to her presence;and there I was introduced to the various teachers. Mademoiselle Genevieve, Miss Babbitt, Mme. Jupon, and MissDumps. I could not examine them just then. I felt I was onexhibition myself. 

"Is Miss Randolph to come to me, Madame?" the first of theseladies asked. She was young, bright, black-eyed, and full ofenergy; I saw so much. 

"I fancy she will come to all of you, " said Madame. "ExceptMiss Babbitt. You can write and read, I dare say, MissRandolph?" she went on with a smile. I answered of course. 

"What have been your principal studies for the past year?"

I said, mathematics, astronomy, and philosophy and history. 

"Then she is mine!" exclaimed Mlle. Genevieve. 

"She is older than she looks, " said Miss Babbitt. 

"Her hair is young, but her eyes are not, " said the formerspeaker; who was a lively lady. 

"French have you studied?" Madame went on. 

"Not so much, " I said. 

"Mme. Jupon will want you. "

"I am sure she is a good child, " said Mme. Jupon, who was agood-natured, plain-looking Frenchwoman without a particle ofa Frenchwoman's grace or address. "I will be charmed to haveher. "

"You may go back to your place, Miss Randolph, " said mymistress. "We will arrange all the rest to-morrow. "

"Shall I go back with you?" asked Mlle. Genevieve. "Do youmind going alone?"

She spoke very kindly, but I was at a loss for her meaning. Isaw the kindness; why it showed itself in such an offer Icould not imagine. 

"I am very much obliged to you, ma'am, " — I began, when alittle burst of laughter stopped me. It came from all theteachers; even Mme. Ricard was smiling. 

"You are out for once, Genevieve, " she said. 

"La charmante!" said Mme. Jupon. "Voyez l'aplomb!"

"No, you don't want me, " said Mlle. Genevieve nodding. "Go —you'll do. "

I went back to the upper room, and presently tea was served. Isat alone; there was nobody near me who knew me; I had nothingto do while munching my bread and butter but to examine thenew scene. There was a great deal to move my curiosity. In thefirst place, I was surprised to see the rooms gay with finedresses. I had come from the quiet of Magnolia, and accustomedto the simplicity of my mother's taste; which if it sometimesadorned me, did it always in subdued fashion, and neverflaunted either its wealth or beauty. But on every side of meI beheld startling costumes; dresses that explained my mantua-maker's eagerness about velvet and green leaves. I saw thatshe was right; her trimmings would have been "quiet" here. Opposite me was a brown merino, bordered with blocks of bluesilk running round the skirt. Near it was a dress of brilliantred picked out with black cord and heavy with large blackbuttons. Then a black dress caught my eye which had anembattled trimming of black and gold, continued round thewaist and completed with a large gold buckle. Then there was agrey cashmere with red stars and a bronze-coloured silk withblack velvet a quarter of a yard wide let into the skirt; thebody all of black velvet. I could go on, if my memory wouldserve me. The rooms were full of this sort of thing. Yet morethan the dresses the heads surprised me. Just at that time thestyle of hair-dressing was one of those styles which areendurable, and perhaps even very beautiful, in the hands of afirst-rate artist and on the heads of the few women who dresswell; but which are more and more hideous the further you getfrom that distant pinnacle of the mode, and the lower downthey spread among the ranks of society. I thought, as I lookedfrom one to another, I had never seen anything so ill intaste, so outraged in style, so unspeakable in ugliness aswell as in pretension. I supposed then it was the fashionprincipally which was to blame. Since then, I have seen thesame fashion on one of those heads that never wear anythingbut in good style. It gathered a great wealth of rich hairinto a mass at the back of the head, yet leaving the top andfront of the hair in soft waves; and the bound up mass behindwas loose and soft and flowed naturally from the head; it hadno hard outline nor regular shape; it was nature's luxuriancejust held in there from bursting down over neck and shoulders;and hardly that, for some locks were almost escaping. Thewhole was to the utmost simple, natural, graceful, rich. Butthese caricatures! All that they knew was to mass the hair atthe back of the head; and that fact was attained. But somelooked as if they had a hard round cannon-ball fastened there;others suggested a stuffed pincushion, ready for pins; othershad a mortar shell in place of a cannon-ball, the size was soenormous; in nearly all, the hair was strained tight over orunder something; in not one was there an effect which theoriginator of the fashion would not have abhorred. Girlishgrace was nowhere to be seen, either in heads or persons;girlish simplicity had no place. It was a school; but thecompany looked fitter for the stiff assemblages of ceremonythat should be twenty years later in their lives. 

My heart grew very blank. I felt unspeakably alone; not merelybecause there was nobody there whom I knew, but because therewas nobody whom it seemed to me I ever should know. I took mytea and bits of bread and butter, feeling forlorn. A year inthat place seemed to me longer than I could bear. I hadexchanged my King Log for King Stork. 

It was some relief when after tea we were separated into otherrooms and sat down to study. But I dreamed over my book. Iwondered how heads could study that had so much trouble on theoutside. I wandered over the seas to that spot somewhere thatwas marked by the ship that carried my father and another. Only now going out towards China; and low long months mightpass before China would be lone with and the ship be bearingthem back again. The lesson given me that night was notdifficult enough to bind my attention; and my heart grew veryheavy. So heavy, that I felt I must find help somewhere. Andwhen one's need is so shut in, then it looks in the rightquarter — the only one left open. 

My little book was up stairs in my bag; but my thoughts flewto my page of that day and the "Fear thou not, for I am withthee. " Nobody knows, who has not wanted them, how good thosewords are. Nobody else can understand how sweet they were tome. I lost for a little all sight of the study table and thefaces round it. I just remembered who was WITH ME; in thefreedom and joy of that presence both fears and lonelinessseemed to fade away. "I, the Lord, will hold thy right hand. "Yes, and I, a poor little child, put my hand in the hand of mygreat Leader, and felt safe and strong. 

I found very soon I had enemies to meet that I had not yetreckoned with. The night passed peacefully enough; and thenext day I was put in the schoolroom and found my place in thevarious classes. The schoolrooms were large and pleasant;large they had need to be, for the number of day scholars whoattended in them was very great. They were many as well asspacious; different ages being parted off from each other. Besides the schoolrooms proper, there were rooms forrecitation, where the classes met their teachers; so we hadthe change and variety of moving from one part of the house toanother. We met Mlle. Genevieve in one room, for mathematicsand Italian; Mme. Jupon in another, for French. Miss Dumpsseized us in another, for writing and geography, and made themost of us; she was a severe little person in her teaching andin her discipline; but she was good. We called her Miss Maria, in general. Miss Babbitt had the history; and she did nothingto make it intelligible or interesting. My best historicaltimes thus far, by much, had been over my clay map and my red-headed and black-headed pins, studying the changes of Englandand her people. But Mlle. Genevieve put a new life intomathematics. I could never love the study; but she made it agreat deal better than Miss Pinshon made it. Indeed I believethat to learn anything under Mlle. Genevieve, would have beenpleasant. She had so much fire and energy; she taught withsuch a will; her black eyes were so keen both for her pupilsand her subject. One never thought of the discipline in Mlle. Genevieve's room, but only of the study. I was young to bethere, in the class where she put me; but my training hadfitted me for it. With Mme. Jupon also I had an easy time. Shewas good nature itself, and from the first showed a particularfavour and liking for me. And as I had no sort of wish tobreak rules, with Miss Maria too I got on well. It was out ofschool and out of study hours that my difficulties came uponme. 

For a day or two I did not meet them. I was busy with theschool routine, and beginning already to take pleasure in it. Knowledge was to be had here; lay waiting to be gathered up;and that gathering I always enjoyed. Miss Pinshon had kept meon short allowance. It was the third or fourth day after myarrival, that going up after dinner to get ready for a walk Imissed my chinchilla cap from its peg. I sought for it invain. 

"Come, Daisy, " said Miss Lansing, make haste. Babbitt will beafter you directly if you aren't ready. Put on your cap. "

"I can't find it, " I said. "I left it here, in its place, butI can't find it. "

There was a burst of laughter from three of my room-mates, asMiss St. Clair danced out from the closet with the cap on herown brows; and then with a caper of agility, taking it off, flung it up to the chandelier, where it hung on one of theburners. 

"For shame, Faustina, that's too bad. How call she get it?"said Miss Bentley. 

"I don't want her to get it, " said the St. Clair coolly. 

"Then how can she go to walk?"

"I don't want her to go to walk. "

"Faustina, that isn't right. Miss Randolph is a stranger; youshouldn't play tricks on her. "

"Roundheads were always revolutionists, " said the girlrecklessly. "_A la lanterne!_ Heads or hats — it don't signifywhich. That is an example of what our Madame calls'symbolism. ' "

"Hush — sh! Madame would call it something else. Now how arewe going to get the cap down?"

For the lamp hung high, having been pushed up out of reach forthe day. The St. Clair ran off, and Miss Macy followed; butthe two others consulted, and Lansing ran down to waylay thechambermaid and beg a broom. By the help of the broom handlemy cap was at length dislodged from its perch, and restored tome. But I was angry. I felt the fiery current running throughmy veins; and the unspeakable saucy glance of St. Clair's eye, as I passed her to take my place in the procession, threw fuelon the fire. I think for years I had not been angry in such afashion. The indignation I had at different times felt againstthe overseer at Magnolia was a justifiable thing. Now I wasangry and piqued. The feeling was new to me. — I had beenwithout it very long. I swallowed the ground with my feetduring that walk; but before the walk came to an end thequestion began to come up in my mind, what was the matter? andwhether I did well? These sprinklings of water on the flame Ithink made it leap into new life at first; but as they cameand came again, I had more to think about than St. Clair, whenI got back to the house. Yes, and as we were all taking offour things together I was conscious that I shunned her; thatthe sight of her was disagreeable; and that I would have likedto visit some gentle punishment upon her careless head. Thebustle of business swallowed up the feeling for the rest ofthe time till we went to bed. 

But then it rose very fresh, and I began to question myselfabout it in the silence and darkness. Finding myself inclinedto justify myself, I bethought me to try this new feeling bysome of the words I had been studying in my little book for afew days past. "The entrance of Thy words giveth light" — wasthe leading test for the day that had just gone; now I thoughtI would try it in my difficulty. The very nest words on thepage, I remembered were these. "God is light, and in him is nodarkness at all. "

It came into my mind as soon, that this feeling of anger andresentment which troubled me had to do with darkness, not withthe light. In vain I reasoned; to prove the contrary; I _felt_dark. I could not look up to that clear white light where Goddwells, and feel at all that I was "walking in the light as Heis in the light. " Clearly Daisy Randolph was out of the way. And I went on with bitterness of heart to the next words — "Ye_were_ sometime darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord; walkas children of light. "

And what then? was I to pass by quietly the insolence of St. Clair? was I to take it quite quietly, and give no sign evenof annoyance? take no means of showing my displeasure, or ofputting a stop to the naughtiness that called it forth? Mymind put these questions impatiently, and still, as it did so, an answer came from somewhere, — "Walk as children of light. "I _knew_ that children of light would reprove darkness only withlight; and a struggle began. Other words came into my headthen, which made the matter only clearer. "If any man smitethee on the one cheek, turn to him the other. " "Love yourenemies. " Ah, but how could I? with what should I put out thisfire kindled in my heart, which seemed only to burn thefiercer whatever I threw upon it? And then, other words stillcame sweeping upon me with their sweetness, and I rememberedwho had said, "I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee. "I softly got out of bed, wrapped the coverlid round me, andknelt down to pray. For I had no time to lose. To-morrow Imust meet my little companion, and to-morrow I _must_ be readyto walk as a child of light, and to-night the fires ofdarkness were burning in my heart. I was long on my knees. Iremember, in a kind of despair at last I flung myself on theword of Jesus, and cried to Him as Peter did when he saw thewind boisterous. I remember, how the fire died out in myheart, till the very coals were dead; and how the day and thesunlight came stealing in, till it was all sunshine. I gave mythanks, and got into bed, and slept without a break the restof the night. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A PLACE IN THE WORLD. 

I was a humbler child when I got out of bed the next morning, I think, than ever I had been in my life before. But I hadanother lesson to learn. 

I was not angry any more at Miss St. Clair. That was gone. Even when she did one or two other mischievous things to me, the rising feeling of offence was quickly got under; and Ilived in great charity with her. My new lesson was of anothersort. 

Two or three days passed, and then came Sunday. It was never acomfortable day at Mme. Ricard's. We all went to church ofcourse, under the care of one or other of the teachers; and wehad our choice where to go. Miss Babbitt went to aPresbyterian church. Miss Maria to a high Episcopal. Mme. Jupon attended a little French Protestant chapel; and Mlle. Genevieve and Mme. Ricard went to the Catholic church. Thefirst Sunday I had gone with them, not knowing at all whither. I found that would not do; and since then I had tried theother parties. But I was in a strait; for Miss Maria's churchseemed to me a faded image of Mlle. Genevieve's; thePresbyterian church which Miss Babbitt went to was stiff anddull; I was not at home in either of them, and could notunderstand or enjoy what was spoken. The very music had an airof incipient petrification, if I can speak so about sounds. Atthe little French chapel I could as little comprehend thewords that were uttered. But in the pulpit there was a manwith a shining face; a face full of love and truth andearnestness. He spoke out of his heart, and no set words; andthe singing was simple and sweet and the hymns beautiful. Icould understand them, for I had the hymn-book in my hands. Also I had the French Bible, and Mme. Jupon, delighted to haveme with her, assured me that if I listened I would very soonbegin to understand the minister's preaching just as well asif it were English. So I went with Mme. Jupon, and therebylost some part of Mlle. Genevieve's favour; but that I did notunderstand till afterwards. 

We had all been to church as usual, this Sunday, and we weretaking off our hats and things up stairs, after the secondservice. My simple toilet was soon made; and I sat upon theside of my little bed, watching those of my companions. Theywere a contrast to mine. The utmost that money could do, tobring girls into the fashion, was done for these girls; forthe patrons of Mme. Ricard's establishment were nearly allrich. 

Costly coats and cloaks, heavy trimmed, were surmounted withevery variety of showy head gear, in every variety ofunsuitableness. To study bad taste, one would want no betterfield than the heads of Mme. Ricard's seventy boarders dressedfor church. Not that the articles which were worn on the headswere always bad; some of them came from irreproachableworkshops; but there was everywhere the bad taste ofoverdressing, and nowhere the tact of appropriation. The hatswere all on the wrong heads. Everybody was a testimony of whatmoney can do without art. I sat on my little bed, vaguelyspeculating on all this as I watched my companions' disrobing;at intervals humming the sweet French melody to which the lasthymn had been sung; when St. Clair paused in her talk andthrew a glance in my direction. It lighted on my plain plaidfrock and undressed hair. 

"Don't you come from the country, Miss Randolph?" she said, insolently enough. 

I answered yes. And I remembered what my mantua-maker hadsaid. 

"Did you have that dress made there?"

"For shame, St. Clair!" said Miss Bentley; "let Miss Randolphalone. I am sure her dress is very neat. "

"I wonder if women don't wear long hair where she came from —"said the girl, turning away from me again. The others laughed. 

I was as little pleased at that moment with the defence aswith the attack. The instant thought in my mind was, that MissBentley knew no more how to conduct the one than Miss St. Clair to make the other; if the latter had no civility, thefirst had no style. Now the St. Clair was one of the bestdressed girls in school and came from one of the mostimportant families. I thought, if she knew where I came from, and who my mother was, she would change her tone. Nevertheless, I wished mamma would order me to let my hairgrow, and I began to think whether I might not do it withoutorder. And I thought also that the spring was advancing, andwarm weather would soon be upon us; and that these girls wouldchange their talk and their opinion about me when they saw mysummer frocks. There was nothing like _them_ in all the school. I ran over in my mind their various elegance, of texture, andlace, and fine embroidery, and graceful, simple drapery. Andalso I thought, if these girls could see Magnolia, itsmagnificent oaks, and its acres of timber, and its sweeps ofrich fields, and its troops of servants, their minds would beenlightened as to me and my belongings. 

These meditations were a mixture of comfort and discomfort tome; but on the whole I was not comfortable. This process ofcomparing myself with my neighbours, I was not accustomed to;and even though its results were so favourable, I did not likeit. Neither did I quite relish living under a cloud; and myeyes being a little sharpened now, I could see that not by myyoung companions alone, but by every one of the four teachers, I was looked upon as a harmless little girl whose mother knewnothing about the fashionable world. I do not think thatanything in my manner showed either my pique or my disdain; Ibelieve I went about just as usual; but these things wereoften in my thoughts, and taking by degrees more room in them. 

It was not till the Sunday came round again, that I got anymore light. The afternoon service was over; we had come homeand laid off our bonnets and cloaks; for though we were inApril it was cold and windy; and my school-fellows had allgone down stairs to the parlour, where they had the privilegeof doing what they pleased before tea. I was left alone. Itwas almost my only time for being alone in the whole week. Ihad an hour then; and I used to spend it in my bedroom with myBible. To-day I was reading the first epistle of John, which Iwas very fond of, and as my custom was, not reading merely, but pondering and praying over the words verse by verse. So Ifound that I understood them better and enjoyed them a greatdeal more. I came to these words, —

"Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God; therefore the worldknoweth us not, because it knew Him not. "

I had dwelt some time upon the first part of the verse, forgetting all my discomforts of the week past; and came indue course to the next words. I never shall forget how theyswept in upon me. "_The world knoweth us not_. " — What did thatmean? "Because it knew Him not. " How did it not know Him? Hewas in the midst of men; He lived no hidden life; the worldknew Him well enough as a benefactor, a teacher, a reprover;in what sense did it _not_ know Him? And I remembered, it didnot know Him as one of its own party. He was "this fellow, " —and "the deceiver;" — "the Nazarene;" "they called the Masterof the house Beelzebub. " And so, the world knoweth _us_ not; andI knew well enough why; because we must be like Him. And then, I found an unwillingness in myself to have these words true ofme. I had been very satisfied under the slighting tones andlooks of the little world around me, thinking that they weremistaken and would by and by know it; they would know that inall that they held so dear, of grace and fashion and eleganceand distinguished appearance, my mother, and of course I, werenot only their match but above them. Now, must I be content tohave them never know it? But, I thought, I could not helptheir seeing the fact; if I dressed as my mother's child wasaccustomed to dress, they would know what sphere of life Ibelonged to. And then the words bore down upon me again, withtheir uncompromising distinctness, — "_the world knoweth usnot_. " I saw it was a mark and character of those that belongedto Christ. I saw that, if I belonged to Him, the world mustnot know me. The conclusion was very plain. And to secure theconclusion, the way was very plain too; I must simply not belike the world. I must not be of the world; and I must let itbe known that I was not. 

Face to face with the issue, I started back. For not to be ofthe world, meant, not to follow their ways. I did not want tofollow some of their ways; I had no desire to break theSabbath, for example; but I did like to wear pretty andelegant and expensive things, and fashionable things. It isvery true, I had just denied myself this pleasure, and boughta plain dress and coat that did not charm me; but that was infavour of Margaret and to save money for her. And I had noobjection to do the same thing again and again, for the samemotive; and to deny myself to the end of the chapter, so longas others were in need. But that was another matter fromshaking hands with the world at once, and being willing thatfor all my life it should never know me as one of those whomit honoured. Never _know_ me, in fact. I must be something outof the world's consciousness, and of no importance to it. Andto begin with, I must never try to enlighten my school-fellows' eyes about myself. Let them think that Daisy Randolphcame from somewhere in the country, and was accustomed to wearno better dresses in ordinary than her school plaid. Let themnever be aware that I had ponies and servants and lands andtreasures. Nay, the force of the words I had read went furtherthan that. I felt it, down in my heart. Not only I must takeno measures to proclaim my title to the world's regard; but Imust be such and so unlike it in my whole way of life, dressand all, that the world would not wish to recognise me, norhave anything to do with me. 

I counted the cost now, and it seemed heavy. There was MissBentley, with her clumsy finery, put on as it were one dollarabove the other. She patronised me, as a little country-girlwho knew nothing. Must I not undeceive her? There was FaustinaSt. Clair, really of a good family, and insolent on thestrength of it; must I never let her know that mine was asgood, and that my mother had as much knowledge of theproprieties and elegancies of life as ever hers had? Thesegirls and plenty of the others looked down upon me assomething inferior; not belonging to their part of society;must I be content henceforth to live so simply that these andothers who judge by the outside would never be any wiser as towhat I really was? Something in me rebelled. Yet the words Ihad been reading were final and absolute. "The world knowethus _not_;" and "us, " I knew, meant the little band in whosehearts Christ is king. Surely I was one of them. But I wasunwilling to slip out of the world's view and be seen by it nomore. I struggled. 

It was something very new in my experience. I had certainlyfelt struggles of duty in other times, but they had neverlasted long. This lasted. With an eye made keen by conscience, I looked now in my reading to see what else I might find thatwould throw light on the matter and perhaps soften off theuncompromising decision of the words of St. John. By and by Icame to these words —

"If ye were of the world, the world would love his own. Butbecause ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out ofthe world, _therefore the world hateth you_. "

I shut the book. The issue could not be more plainly setforth. I must choose between the one party and the other. Nay, I had chosen; — but I must agree to belong but to one. 

Would anybody say that a child could not have such a struggle?that fourteen years do not know yet what "the world" means?Alas, it is a relative term; and a child's "world" may be asmighty for her to face, as any other she will ever know. Ithink I never found any more formidable. Moreover, it is lessunlike the big world than some would suppose. 

On the corner of the street, just opposite to our windows, stood a large handsome house which we always noticed for itsflowers. The house stood in a little green courtyard, exquisitely kept, which at one side and behind gave room forseveral patches of flower beds, at this time filled withbulbous plants. I always lingered as much as I could inpassing the iron railings, to have a peep at the beautywithin. The grass was now of a delicious green, and the tulipsand hyacinths and crocuses were in full bloom, in theirdifferent oval-shaped beds, framed in with the green. Besidesthese, from the windows of a greenhouse that stretched backalong the street, there looked over a brilliant array of otherbeauty; I could not tell what; great bunches of scarlet andtufts of white and gleamings of yellow, that made me long tobe there. 

"Who lives in that house?" Miss Bentley asked one evening. Itwas the hour before tea, and we were all at our room windowsgazing down into the avenue. 

"Why don't you know?" said slow Miss Macy. That's MissCardigan's house. "

"I wonder who she is, " said Miss Lansing. "It isn't a New Yorkname. "

"Yes, it is, " said Macy. "She's lived there forever. She usedto be there, and her flowers, when I was four years old. "

"I guess she isn't anybody, is she?" said Miss Bentley. "Inever see any carriages at her door. Hasn't she a carriage ofher own, I wonder, or how does she travel? Such a house oughtto have a carriage. "

"I'll tell you, " said the St. Clair, coolly as usual. "Shegoes out in a wagon with an awning to it. _She_ don't knowanything about carriages. "

"But she must have money, you know, " urged Miss Bentley. "Shecouldn't keep up that house, and the flowers, and thegreenhouse and all, without money. "

"She's got money, " said the St. Clair. "Her mother made itselling cabbages in the market. Very likely she sold flowerstoo. "

There was a general exclamation and laughter at what wassupposed to be one of St. Clair's flights of mischief; but theyoung lady stood her ground calmly, and insisted that it was athing well known. "My grandmother used to buy vegetables fromold Mrs. Cardigan when we lived in Broadway, " she said. "It'squite true. That's why she knows nothing about carriages. "

"That sort of thing don't hinder other people from havingcarriages, " said Miss Lansing. "There's Mr. Mason, next doorto Miss Cardigan, — his father was a tailor; and the Steppes, two doors off, do you know what they were? They were millers, a little way out of town; nothing else; had a mill and groundflour. They made a fortune I suppose, and now here they are inthe midst of other people. "

"Plenty of carriages, too, " said Miss Macy; "and everythingelse. "

"After all, " said Miss Bentley, after a pause, "I supposeeverybody's money had to be made somehow, in the firstinstance. I suppose all the Millers in the world came fromreal millers once; and the Wheelwrights from wheelwrights. "

"And what a world of smiths there must have been, first andlast, " said Miss Lansing. "The world is full of theirdescendants. "

"_Everybody's_ money wasn't made, though, " said the St. Clair, with an inexpressible attitude, of her short upper lip. 

"I guess it was, — if you go back far enough, " said Miss Macy, whom nothing disturbed. But I saw that while Miss Lansing andMiss St. Clair were at ease in the foregoing conversation, Miss Bentley was not. 

"You _can't_ go back far enough, " said the St. Clair haughtily. 

"How then?" said the other. "How do you account for it? Wheredid their money come from?"

"It grew, " said the St. Clair ineffably. "They were lords ofthe soil. "

"Oh! — But it had to be dug out, I suppose, " said Miss Macy. 

"There were others to do that. "

"After all, " said Miss Macy, "how is money that grew anybetter than money that is made? It is all made by somebody, too. "

"If it is made by somebody else, it leaves your hands clean, "the St. Clair answered, with an insolence worthy of matureryears; for Miss Macy's family had grown rich by trade. She wasof a slow temper, however, and did not take fire. "

"My grandfather's hands were clean, " she said; "yet he made hisown money. Honest hands always are clean. "

"Do you suppose Miss Cardigan's were when she was handling hercabbages?" said St. Clair. "I have no doubt Miss Cardigan'shouse smells of cabbages now. "

"O St. Clair!" — Miss Lansing said, laughing. 

"I always smell them when I go past, " said the other, elevating her scornful little nose; it was a handsome nosetoo. 

"I don't think it makes any difference, " said Miss Bentley, "provided people _have_ money, how they came by it. Money buysthe same things for one that it does for another. "

"Now, my good Bentley, that is just what it _don't_, " said St. Clair, drumming upon the window-pane with the tips of herfingers. 

"Why not?"

"Because! — people that have always had money know how to useit; and people that have just come into their money, _don't_know. You can tell the one from the other as far off as thehead of the avenue. "

"But what is to hinder their going to the same milliner andmantua-maker, for instance, or the same cabinet-maker, — andbuying the same things?"

"Or the same jeweller, or the same — anything? So they could, if they knew which they were. "

"Which _what_ were? It is easy to tell which is a fashionablemilliner, or mantua-maker; everybody knows that. "

"It don't do some people any good, " said St. Clair, turningaway. "When they get in the shop, they do not know what to buy;and if they buy it they can't put it on. People that are notfashionable can't _be_ fashionable. "

I saw the glance that fell, scarcely touching, on my plainplaid frock. I was silly enough to feel it too. I was unusedto scorn. St. Clair returned to the window, perhaps sensiblethat she had gone a little too far. 

"I can tell you now, " she said, "what that old Miss Cardiganhas got in her house — just as well as if I saw it. "

"Did you ever go in?" said Lansing eagerly. 

"We don't visit, " said the other. "But I can tell you, just aswell; and you can send Daisy Randolph some day to see if it istrue. "

"Well, go on, St. Clair — what is there?" said Miss Macy. 

"There's a marble hall of course; that the mason built; itisn't her fault. Then in the parlours there are thick carpets, that cost a great deal of money and are as ugly as they canbe, with every colour in the world. The furniture is redsatin, or maybe blue, staring bright, against a light greenwall panelled with gold. The ceilings are gold and white, withenormous chandeliers. On the wall there are some very bigpicture frames, with nothing in them — to speak of; there is atable in the middle of the floor with a marble top, and thepiers are filled with mirrors down to the floor; and thesecond room is like the first and the third is like thesecond, and there is nothing else in any of the rooms but whatI have told you. "

"Well, it is a very handsome house, I should think, if youhave told true, " said Miss Bentley. 

St. Clair left the window with a scarce perceptible but mostwicked smile at her friend Miss Lansing; and the groupscattered. Only I remained to think it over and ask myself, could I let go my vantage ground? could I make up my mind todo forever without the smile and regard of that portion of theworld which little St. Clair represented? It is powerful, evenin a school!

I had seen how carelessly this undoubted child of birth andfashion wielded the lash of her tongue; and how others bowedbefore it. I had seen Miss Bentley wince, and Miss Macy biteher lip; but neither of them dared affront the daughter ofMrs. St. Clair. Miss Lansing was herself of the favouredclass, and had listened lightly. Fashion was power, that wasplain. Was I willing to forego it? was I willing to be one ofthose whom fashion passes by as St. Clair had glanced on mydress — as something not worthy a thought?

I was not happy, those days. Something within me wasstruggling for self-assertion. It was new to me; for untilthen I had never needed to assert my claims to anything. Forthe first time, I was looked down upon, and I did not like it. I do not quite know why I was made to know this so well. Mydress, if not showy or costly, was certainly without blame inits neatness and niceness, and perfectly becoming my place asa school-girl. And I had very little to do at that time withmy schoolmates, and that little was entirely friendly in itscharacter. I am obliged to think, looking back at it now, thatsome rivalry was at work. I did not then understand it. But Iwas taking a high place in all my classes. I had gone past St. Clair in two or three things. Miss Lansing was too far behindin her studies to feel any jealousy on that account; butbesides that, I was an unmistakeable favourite with all theteachers. They liked to have me do anything for them or withthem; if any privilege was to be given, I was sure to be oneof the first names called to share it; if I was spoken to foranything, the manner and tone were in contrast with those usedtowards almost all my fellows. It may have been partly forthese reasons that there was a little positive element in theslights which I felt. The effect of the whole was to make along struggle in my mind. "The world knoweth us not" — gavethe character and condition of that party to which I belonged. I was feeling now what those words mean, — and it was notpleasant. 

This struggle had been going on for several weeks, and growingmore and more wearying, when Mrs. Sandford came one day to seeme. She said I did not look very well, and obtained leave forme to take a walk with her. I was glad of the change. It was apleasant, bright afternoon; we strolled up the long avenue, then gay and crowded with passers to and fro in every varietyand in the height of the mode; for our avenue was a favouriteand very fashionable promenade. The gay world nodded and bowedto each other; the sun streamed on satins and laces, flowersand embroidery; elegant toilettes passed and repassed eachother, with smiling recognition; the street was a show. Iwalked by Mrs. Sandford's side in my chinchilla cap, for I hadnot got a straw hat yet, though it was time; thinking, — "_Theworld knoweth us not_" — and carrying on the struggle in myheart all the while. By and by we turned to come down theavenue. 

"I want to stop a moment here on some business, " said Mrs. Sandford, as we came to Miss Cardigan's corner; "would youlike to go in with me, Daisy?"

I was pleased, and moreover glad that it was the hour for mycompanions to be out walking. I did not wish to be seen goingin at that house and to have all the questions poured on methat would be sure to come. Moreover I was curious to see howfar Miss St. Clair's judgment would be verified. The marblehall was undoubted; it was large and square, with a handsomestaircase going up from it; but the parlour, into which wewere ushered the next minute, crossed all my expectations. Itwas furnished with dark chintz; no satin, red or blue, wasanywhere to be seen; even the curtains were chintz. The carpetwas not rich; the engravings on the walls were in woodenframes varnished; the long mirror between the windows, forthat was there, reflected a very simple mahogany table, onwhich lay a large work basket, some rolls of muslin andflannel, work cut and uncut, shears and spools of cotton. Another smaller table held books and papers and writingmaterials. This was shoved up to the corner of the hearth, where a fire — a real, actual fire of sticks — was softlyburning. The room was full of the sweet smell of the burningwood. Between the two tables, in a comfortable large chair, sat the lady we had come to see. My heart warmed at the lookof her immediately. Such a face of genial gentle benevolence;such a healthy sweet colour in the old cheeks; such a hearty, kind, and withal shrewd and sound, expression of eye and lip. She was stout and dumpy in figure, rather fat; with a littleplain cap on her head and a shawl pinned round her shoulders. Somebody who had never been known to the world of fashion. Butoh, how homely and comfortable she and her room looked! sheand her room and her cat; for a great white cat sat with herpaws doubled under her in front of the fire. 

"My sister begged that I would call and see you, MissCardigan, " Mrs. Sandford began, "about a poor family namedWhittaker, that live somewhere in Ellen Street. "

"I know them. Be seated, " said our hostess. "I know them well. But I don't know this little lady. "

"A little friend of mine, Miss Cardigan; she is at school withyour neighbour opposite, — Miss Daisy Randolph. "

"If nearness made neighbourhood, " said Miss Cardigan, laughing, "Mme. Ricard and I would be neighbours; but I amafraid the rule of the Good Samaritan would put us far apart. Miss Daisy — do you like my cat; or would you like maybe to goin and look at my flowers? — yes? — Step in that way, dear;just go through that room, and on, straight through; you'llsmell them before you come to them. "

I gladly obeyed her, stepping in through the darkened middleroom where already the greeting of the distant flowers met me;then through a third smaller room, light and bright and fullof fragrance, and to my surprise, lined with books. From thisan open glass door let me into the greenhouse, and into thepresence of the beauties I had so often looked up to from thestreet. I lost myself then. Geraniums breathed over me; rosessmiled at me; a daphne at one end of the room filled the wholeplace with its fragrance. Amaryllis bulbs were magnificent;fuchsias dropped with elegance; jonquils were shy and dainty;violets were good; hyacinths were delicious; tulips weresplendid. Over and behind all these and others, were wonderfulferns, and heaths most delicate in their simplicity, andmyrtles most beautiful with their shining dark foliage andstarry white blossoms. I lost myself at first, and wanderedpast all these new and old friends in a dream; then I waked upto an intense feeling of homesickness. I had not been in sucha greenhouse in a long time; the geraniums and roses andmyrtles summoned me back to the years when I was a littlehappy thing at Melbourne House — or summoned the images ofthat time back to me. Father and mother and home — thedelights and the freedoms of those days — the carelessness, and the care — the blessed joys of that time before I knewMiss Pinshon, or school, and before I was perplexed with thesorrows and the wants of the world, and before I was alone —above all, when papa and mamma and I were _at home_. Thegeraniums and the roses set me back there so sharply that Ifelt it all. I had lost myself at first going into thegreenhouse; and now I had quite lost sight of everything else, and stood gazing at the faces of the flowers with some tearson my own, and, I suppose, a good deal of revelation of myfeeling; for I was unutterably startled by the touch of twohands upon my shoulders and a soft whisper in my ear. "What isit, my bairn?"

It was Miss Cardigan's soft Scotch accent, and it was, besides, a question of the tenderest sympathy. I looked ather, saw the kind and strong grey eyes which were fixed on mewistfully; and hiding my face in her bosom I sobbed aloud. 

I don't know how I came to be there, in her arms, nor how Idid anything so unlike my habit; but there I was, and it wasdone, and Miss Cardigan and I were in each other's confidence. It was only for one moment that my tears came; then Irecovered myself. 

"What sort of discourse did the flowers hold to you, littleone?" said Miss Cardigan's kind voice; while her stout personhid all view of me that could have been had through the glassdoor. 

"Papa is away, " I said, forcing myself to speak, — "and mamma;— and we used to have these flowers —"

"Yes, yes; I know. I know very well, " said my friend. "Theflowers didn't know but you were there yet. They hadn'tdiscretion. Mrs. Sandford wants to go, clear. — Will you comeagain and see them? They will say something else next time. "

"Oh, may I?" I said. 

"Just whenever you like, and as often as you like. So I'llexpect you. "

I went home, very glad at having escaped notice from myschoolmates, and firmly bent on accepting Miss Cardigan'sinvitation at the first chance I had. I asked about her ofMrs. Sandford in the first place; and learned that she was "avery good sort of person; a little queer, but very kind; aperson that did a great deal of good and had plenty of money. Not in society, of course, " Mrs. Sandford added; "but I daresay she don't miss that; and she is just as useful as if shewere. "

"Not in society. " That meant, I supposed, that Miss Cardiganwould not be asked to companies where Mrs. Randolph would befound, or Mrs. Sandford; that such people would not "know"her, in fact. That would certainly be a loss to Miss Cardigan;but I wondered how much? "The world knoweth us not, " — the lotof all Christ's people, — could it involve anything in itselfvery bad? My old Juanita, for example, who held herself theheir to a princely inheritance, was it any harm to her thatearthly palaces knew her only as a servant? But then, what didnot matter to Juanita or Miss Cardigan, might matter tosomebody who had been used to different things. I knew how ithad been with myself for a time past. I was puzzled. Idetermined to wait and see, if I could, how much it matteredto Miss Cardigan. 

CHAPTER XII. 

FRENCH DRESSES. 

My new friend had given me free permission to come and see herwhenever I found myself able. Saturday afternoon we always hadto ourselves in the school; and the next Saturday found me atMiss Cardigan's door again as soon as my friends and room-mates were well out of my way. Miss Cardigan was not at home, the servant said, but she would be in presently. I was just aswell pleased. I took off my cap, and carrying it in my hand Iwent back through the rooms to the greenhouse. All still andfresh and sweet, it seemed more delightful than ever, becauseI knew there was nobody near. Some new flowers were out. Anazalea was in splendid beauty, and a white French rose, verylarge and fair, was just blossoming, and with the red rosesand the hyacinths and the violets and the daphne and thegeraniums, made a wonderful sweet place of the littlegreenhouse. I lost myself in delight again; but this time thedelight did not issue in homesickness. The flowers had anothermessage for me to-day. I did not heed it at first, busy withexamining and drinking in the fragrance and the lovelinessabout me; but even as I looked and drank, the flowers began towhisper to me. With their wealth of perfume, with all theirvarious, glorious beauty, one and another leaned towards me orbent over me with the question — "Daisy are you afraid? —Daisy, are you afraid? — The good God who has made us so rich, do you think He will leave you poor? He loves you, Daisy. Youneedn't be a bit afraid but that HE is enough, even if theworld does not know you. He is rich enough for you as well asfor us. "

I heard no voice, but surely I heard that whisper, plainenough. The roses seemed to kiss me with it. The sweet azalearepeated it. The hyacinths stood witnesses of it. The gaytulips and amaryllis held up a banner before me on which itwas blazoned. 

I was so ashamed, and sorry, and glad, all at once, that Ifell down on my knees there, on the stone matted floor, andgave up the world from my heart and for ever, and stretchedout my hands for the wealth that does not perish and theblessing that has no sorrow with it. 

I was afraid to stay long on my knees; but I could hardly getmy eyes dry again, I was so glad and so sorry. I remember Iwas wiping a tear or two away when Miss Cardigan came in. Shegreeted me kindly. 

"There's a new rose out, did ye see it?" she said; "and thisblue hyacinth has opened its flowers. Isn't that bonny?"

"What is _bonny_, ma'am?" I asked. 

Miss Cardigan laughed, the heartiest, sonsiest low laugh. 

"There's a many things the Lord has made bonny, " she said; "Ithank Him for it. Look at these violets — they're bonny; andthis sweet red rose. " She broke it off the tree and gave it tome. "It's bad that it shames your cheeks so. What's the matterwi' em, my bairn?"

Miss Cardigan's soft finger touched my cheek as she spoke; andthe voice and tone of the question were so gently, tenderlykind that it was pleasant to answer. I said I had not beenvery strong. 

"Nor just well in your mind. No, no. Well, what did theflowers say to you to-day, my dear? Eh? They told yousomething?"

"Oh, yes!" I said. 

"Did they tell you that 'the Lord is good; a stronghold in theday of trouble; and He knoweth them that trust in Him'?"

"Oh, yes, " I said, looking up at her in surprise. "How did youknow?"

For all answer, Miss Cardigan folded her two arms tight aboutme and kissed me with earnest good will. 

"But they told me something else, " I said, struggling tocommand myself; — "they told me that I had _not_ 'trusted inHim. ' "

"Ah, my bairn!" she said. "But the Lord is good. "

There was so much both of understanding and sympathy in hertones, that I had a great deal of trouble to control myself. Ifelt unspeakably happy too, that I had found a friend thatcould understand. I was silent, and Miss Cardigan looked atme. 

"Is it all right, noo?" she asked. 

"Except _me_, —" I said, with my eyes swimming. 

"Ah, well!" she said. "You've seen the sky all black andcovered with the thick clouds — that's like our sins; but, 'Ihave blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as acloud thy sins. ' You know how it is when the wind comes andclears the clouds off, and you can look up through the blue, till it seems as if your eye would win into heaven itself. Keep the sky clear, my darling, so that you can always see upstraight to God, with never the fleck of a cloud between. Butdo you ken what will clear the clouds away?"

And I looked up now with a smile and answered, " 'The preciousblood of Christ' " — for the two texts had been close togetherin one of the pages of my little book not long before. 

Miss Cardigan clapped her hands together softly and laughed. "Ye've got it!" she said. "Ye have gotten the pearl of greatprice. And where did ye find it, my dear?"

"I had a friend, that taught me in a Sunday school, four yearsago, —" I said. 

"Ah, there weren't so many Sunday schools in my day, " saidMiss Cardigan. "And ye have found, maybe, that this other sortof a school, that ye have gotten to now, isn't helpfulaltogether? Is it a rough road, my bairn?"

"It is my own fault, " I said, looking at her gratefully. Thetender voice went right into my heart. 

"Well, noo, ye'll just stop and have tea with me here; andwhenever the way is rough, ye'll come over to my flowers andrest yourself. And rest me too; it does me a world o' good tosee a young face. So take off your coat, my dear, and let ussit down and be comfortable. "

I was afraid at first that I could not; I had no liberty to beabsent at tea-time. But Miss Cardigan assured me I should behome in good season; the school tea was at seven, and her ownwas always served at six. So very gladly, with aninexpressible sense of freedom and peace, I took off my coat, and gloves, and followed my kind friend back to the parlourwhere her fire was burning. For although it was late in April, the day was cool and raw; and the fire one saw nowhere elsewas delightful in Miss Cardigan's parlour. 

Every minute of that afternoon was as bright as the fire glow. I sat in the midst of that, on an ottoman, and Miss Cardigan, busy between her two tables, made me very much interested inher story of some distressed families for whom she wasworking. She asked me very little about my own affairs;nothing that the most delicate good breeding did not warrant;but she found out that my father and mother were at a greatdistance from me and I almost alone, and she gave me thefreedom of her house. I was to come there whenever I could andliked; whenever I wanted to "rest my feet", as she said;especially I might spend as much of every Sunday with her as Icould get leave for. And she made this first afternoon sopleasant to me with her gentle beguiling talk, that thepermission to come often was like the entrance into a wholeworld of comfort. She had plenty to talk about; plenty totell, of the poor people to whom she and others wereministering; of plans and methods to do them good; all whichsomehow she made exceedingly interesting. There was just alittle accent to her words, which made them, in theirpeculiarity, all the more sweet to me; but she spoke goodEnglish; the "noo" which slipped out now and then, with one ortwo other like words, came only, I found, at times when thefountain of feeling was more full than ordinary, and so flowedover into the disused old channel. And her face was so fresh, rosy, round and sweet, withal strong and sound, that it was aperpetual pleasure to me. 

As she told her stories of New York needy and suffering, Imentally added my poor people at Magnolia, and began to wonderwith myself, was all the world so? Were these two spots butsamples of the whole? I got into a brown study, and was wakedout of it by Miss Cardigan's "What is it, my dear?"

"Ma'am?" I said. 

"Ye are studying some deep question, " she said, smiling. "Maybe it's too big for you. "

"So it is, " said I, sighing. "Is it so everywhere, MissCardigan?"

"So how, my bairn?"

"Is there so much trouble everywhere in the world?"

Her face clouded over. 

"Jesus said, 'The poor ye have always with you, and whensoeverye will ye may do them good. ' "

"But that is what I don't understand about, " I said. "_How much_ought one to do, Miss Cardigan?"

There came a ray of infinite brightness over her features; Ican hardly describe it; it was warm with love, and bright withpleasure, and — I thought sparkled with a little amusement. 

"Have you thought upon that?" she said. 

"Yes, " I said, — "very much. "

"It is a great question!" she said, her face becoming graveagain. 

"I know, " I said, "of course one ought to do all one can. Butwhat I want to know is, how much one _can_. How much ought oneto spend for such things?"

"It's a great question, " Miss Cardigan repeated, more gravelythan before. "For when the King comes, to take account of Hisservants, He will want to know what we have done with everypenny. Be sure, He will. "

"Then how can one tell?" said I, hoping earnestly that now Iwas going to get some help in my troubles. "How can one know?It is very difficult. "

"I'll no say it's not difficult, " said Miss Cardigan, whosethoughts seemed to have gone into the recesses of her ownmind. "Dear, it's nigh our tea-time. Let us go in. "

I followed her, much disappointed, and feeling that if shepassed the subject by so, I could not bring it up again. Wewent through to the inner room; the same from which the glassdoor opened to the flowers. Here a small table was now spread. This room was cosy. I had hardly seen it before. Low bookcaseslined it on every side; and above the bookcases hung maps;maps of the city and of various parts of the world wheremissionary stations were established. Along with the maps, afew engravings and fine photographs. I remember one of theColosseum, which I used to study; and a very beautifulengraving of Jerusalem. But the one that fixed my eyes thisfirst evening, perhaps because Miss Cardigan placed me infront of it, was a picture of another sort. It was a goodphotograph, and had beauty enough besides to hold my eyes. Itshowed a group of three or four. A boy and girl in front, handsome, careless, and well-to-do, passing along, withwandering eyes. Behind them and disconnected from them by herdress and expression, a tall woman in black robes with a babyon her breast. The hand of the woman was stretched out with acoin which she was about dropping into an iron-bound cofferwhich stood at the side of the picture. It was "the widow'smite;" and her face, wan, sad, sweet, yet loving and longing, told the story. The two coin were going into the box with allher heart. 

"You know what it is?" said my hostess. 

"I see, ma'am, " I replied; "it is written under. "

"That box is the Lord's treasury. "

"Yes, ma'am, " I said, — "I know. "

"Do you remember how much that woman gave?"

"Two mites, " — I said. 

"It was something more than that, " said my hostess. "It wasmore than anybody else gave that day. Don't you recollect? Itwas _all her living_. "

I looked at Miss Cardigan, and she looked at me. Then my eyeswent back to the picture, and to the sad yet sweet and mostloving face of the poor woman there. 

"Ma'am, " said I, "do you think people that are _rich_ ought togive all they have?"

"I only know, my Lord was pleased with her, " said MissCardigan softly; "and I always think I should like to have Himpleased with me too. "

I was silent, looking at the picture and thinking. 

"You know what made that poor widow give her two mites?" MissCardigan asked presently. 

"I suppose she wanted to give them, " I said. 

"Ay, " said my hostess, turning away, — "she loved the Lord'sglory beyond her own comfort. Come, my love, and let us havesome tea. She gave all she had, Miss Daisy, and the Lord likedit; do ye think you and me can do less?"

"But that is what I do not understand, " I said, following MissCardigan to the little tea-table, and watching with greatcomfort the bright unruffled face which promised to be such ahelp to me. 

"Now you'll sit down there, " said my hostess, "where you cansee my flowers while I can see you. It's poor work eating, ifwe cannot look at something or hear something at the sametime; and maybe we'll do the two things. And ye'll have a bitof honey — here it is. And Lotty will bring us up a bit of hottoast — or is the bread better, my dear? Now ye're at home;and maybe you'll come over and drink tea with me whenever youcan run away from over there. I'll have Lotty set a place foryou. And then, when ye think of the empty place, you will knowyou had better come over and fill it. See — you could bringyour study book and study here in this quiet little corner bythe flowers. "

I gave my very glad thanks. I knew I could often do this. 

"And now for the 'not understanding, ' " said Miss Cardigan, when tea was half over. "How was it, my dear?"

"I have been puzzled, " I said, "about giving — how much oneought to give, and how much one ought to spend — I mean, foroneself. "

"Well, " said Miss Cardigan brightly, "we have fixed that. Thepoor woman gave _all her living_. "

"But one must spend some money for oneself, " I said. "One musthave bonnets and cloaks and dresses. "

"And houses, and books, and pictures, " said Miss Cardigan, looking around her. "My lamb, let us go to the Bible again. That says, 'whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, doall to the glory of God. ' So I suppose we must buy cloaks andbonnets on the same principle. "

I turned this over in mind. Had I done this, when I waschoosing my chinchilla cap and grey cloak? A little ray ofinfinite brightness began to steal in upon their quiet coloursand despised forms. 

"If the rich are to give their all, as well as the poor, itdoesn't say — mind you — that they are to give it all to thehungry, or all to the destitute; but only, they are to give itall _to Christ_. Then, he will tell them what to do with it; doye understand, my dear?"

Miss Cardigan's eye was watching me, not more kindly thankeen. A wise and clear grey eye it was. 

"But isn't it difficult to know sometimes what to do?" I said. "I have been so puzzled to know about dresses. Mamma is away, and I had to decide. "

"It's no very difficult, " said Miss Cardigan, — "if once yeset your face in the right _airth_ — as we speak. My dear, there's a great many sorts of dresses and bonnets and things;and I'd always buy just that bonnet and that gown, in which Ithought I could do most work for my Master; and that wouldn'tbe the same sort of bonnet for you and for me, " she said witha merry smile. "Now ye'll have another cup of tea, and ye'lltell me if my tea's good. "

It was wonderfully good to me. I felt like a plant dried upfor want of water, suddenly set in a spring shower. Refreshment was all around me, without and within. The facesof the flowers looked at me through the glass, and the sweetbreath of them came from the open door. The room where I wassitting pleased me mightily, in its comfortable and prettysimplicity; and I had found a friend, even better than my oldMaria and Darry at Magnolia. It was not very long before Itold all about these to my new counsellor. 

For the friendship between us ripened and grew. I often founda chance to fill my place at the dear little tea-table. Sundays I could always be there; and I went there straightfrom afternoon church, and rested among Miss Cardigan's booksand in her sweet society and in the happy freedom and rest ofher house, with an intensity of enjoyment which words can butfeebly tell. So in time I came to tell her all my troubles andthe perplexities which had filled me; I was willing to talk toMiss Cardigan about things that I would have breathed to noother ear upon earth. She was so removed from all the sphereof my past or present life, so utterly disconnected from allthe persons and things with which I had had to do, it was liketelling about them to a being of another planet. Yet she wasnot so removed but that her sympathies and her judgment couldbe living and full grown for my help; all ready to take holdof the facts and to enter into the circumstances, and to giveme precious comfort and counsel. Miss Cardigan and I came tobe very dear to each other. 

All this took time. Nobody noticed at first, or seemed tonotice, my visits to the "house with the flowers, " as thegirls called it. I believe, in my plain dress, I was notthought of importance enough to be watched. I went and camevery comfortably; and the weeks that remained before thesummer vacation slipped away ill quiet order. 

Just before the vacation, my aunt came home from Europe. Withher came the end of my obscurity. She brought me, from mymother, a great supply of all sorts of pretty French dresses, hats, gloves, and varieties. — Chosen by my mother; — aspretty and elegant, and simple too, as they could be; but onceputting them on, I could never be unnoticed by my schoolmatesany more. I knew it, with a certain feeling that was notdispleasure. Was it pride? Was it anything more than mypleasure in all pretty things? I thought it was somethingmore. And I determined that I would not put on any of themtill school was broken up. If it _was_ pride, I was ashamed ofit. But besides French dresses, my aunt brought me a betterthing; a promise from my father. 

"He said I was to tell you, Daisy my dear, — and I hope youwill be a good child and take it as you ought, — but dear me!how she is growing, " said Mrs. Gary, turning to Mme. Ricard;"I cannot talk about Daisy as a 'child' much longer. She'stall. "

"Not too tall, " said Madame. 

"No, but she is going to be tall. She has a right; her motheris tall, and her father. Daisy, my dear, I do believe you aregoing to look like your mother. You'll be very handsome if youdo. And yet, you look different —"

"Miss Randolph will not shame anybody belonging to her, " saidMme. Ricard, graciously. 

"Well, I suppose not, " said my aunt. "I was going to tell youwhat your father said, Daisy. He said — you know it takes along while to get to China and back, and if it does him goodhe will stay a little while there; and then there's the returnvoyage, and there may be delays; so altogether it wasimpossible to say exactly how long he and your mother will begone. I mean, it was impossible to know certainly that theywould be able to come home by next summer; indeed I doubt ifyour father ever does come home. "

I waited, in silence. 

"So altogether, " my aunt went on, turning for a moment to Mme. Ricard, "there was a doubt about it; and your father said, hecharged me to tell Daisy, that if she will make herselfcontented — that is, supposing they cannot come home nextyear, you know, — if she will make herself happy and bepatient and bear one or two years more, and stay at school anddo the best she can, then, the year after next or the nextyear, he will send for you, your father says, unless they comehome themselves, — they will send, for you; and then, yourfather says, he will give you any request you like to make ofhim. Ask anything you can think of, that you would like best, and he will do it or get it, whatever it is. He didn't saylike king Herod, 'to the half of his kingdom, ' but I supposehe meant that. And meanwhile, you know you have a guardiannow, Daisy, and there is no use for me in your affairs; andhaving conveyed to you your mother's gifts and your father'spromises, I suppose there is nothing further for me to do. "

I was silent yet, thinking. Two years more would be a dearpurchase of any pleasure that might come after. Two years! Andfour were gone already. It seemed impossible to wait or tobear it. I heard no more of what my aunt was saying, till sheturned to me again and asked, —

"Where are you going to pass the vacation?"

I did not know, for Mrs. Sandford was obliged to be with hersister still, so that I could not go to Melbourne. 

"Well, if your new guardian thinks well of it — you canconsult him if it is necessary — and if he does not object, you can be with me if you like. Preston has leave of absencethis summer, I believe; and he will be with us. "

It was in effect arranged so. My aunt took me about thecountry from one watering place to another; from Saratoga tothe White Mountains; and Preston's being with us made it a gaytime. Preston had been for two years at West Point; he wasgrown and improved everybody said; but to me he was just thesame. If anything, _not_ improved; the old grace andgraciousness of his manner was edged with an occasionalhardness or abruptness which did not use to belong to him; andwhich I did not understand. There seemed to be a latent causeof irritation somewhere. 

However, my summer went off smoothly enough. September broughtme back to Mme. Ricard's, and in view of Miss Cardigan's lateroses and budding chrysanthemums. I was not sorry. I had setmy heart on doing as much as could be done in these next twoyears, if two they must be. 

I was the first in my room; but before the end of the day theyall came pouring in; the two older and the two younger girls. "Here's somebody already, " exclaimed Miss Macy as she saw me. "Why, Daisy Randolph! is it possible that's you? Is it DaisyRandolph? what have you done to yourself? How you _have_improved!"

"She is very much improved, " said Miss Bentley more soberly. 

"She has been learning the fashions, " said Miss Lansing, herbright eyes dancing as good-humouredly as ever. "Daisy, nowwhen your hair gets long you'll look quite nice. That frock ismade very well. "

"She is changed —" said Miss St. Clair, with a look I couldnot quite make out. 

"No, " I said, — "I hope I am not changed. "

"Your dress is, " said St. Clair. 

I thought of Dr. Sandford's "_L'habit c'est l'homme_. " "Mymother had this dress made, " I said; "and I ordered the otherone; that is all the difference. "

"You're on the right side of the difference, then, " said MissSt. Clair. 

"Has your mother come back, Daisy?" Miss Lansing asked. 

"Not yet. She sent me this from Paris. "

"It's very pretty!" she said; with, I saw, an increase ofadmiration; but St. Clair gave me another strange look. "Howmuch prettier Paris things are than American!" Lansing wenton. "I wish I could have all my dresses from Paris. Why, Daisy, you've grown handsome. "

"Nonsense!" said Miss Macy; "she always was, only you didn'tsee it. "

"Style is more than a face, " remarked Miss St. Claircavalierly. Somehow I felt that this little lady was not in agood mood towards me. I boded mischief; for being nearly of anage, we were together in most of our classes, studied the samethings and recited at the same times. There was an opportunityfor clashing. 

They soon ran off, all four, to see their friends andacquaintances and learn the news of the school. I was leftalone, making my arrangement of clothes and things in mydrawer and my corner of the closet; and I found that somedisturbance, in those few moments, had quite disarranged thethoughts in my heart. They were peaceful enough before. Therewas some confusion now. I could not at first tell what wasuppermost; only that St. Clair's words were those that mostreturned to me. "She has changed. "_Had_ I changed? or was Igoing to change? was I going to enter the lists of fashionwith my young companions, and try who would win the race? Nodoubt my mother could dress me better than almost any of theirmothers could dress them; what then? would this be a triumph?or was this the sort of name and notoriety that became andbefitted a servant of Jesus? I could not help my dresses beingpretty; no, but I could help making much display of them. Icould wear my own school plaid when the weather grew cooler;and one or two others of my wardrobe were all I need show. "Style is more than a face. " No doubt. What _then?_ Did I wantstyle and a face too? Was I wishing to confound St. Clair? WasI escaping already from that bond and mark of a Christian, —"The world knoweth us not"? I was startled and afraid. I felldown on my knees by the side of my bed, and tried to look atthe matter as God looked at it. And the Daisy I thought Hewould be pleased with, was one who ran no race for worldlysupremacy. I resolved she should not. The praise of God, Ithought, was far better than the praise of men. 

My mind was quite made up when I rose from my knees; but Ilooked forward to a less quiet school term than the last hadbeen. Something told me that the rest of the girls would takeme up now, for good and for evil. My Paris dress set me in anew position, no longer beneath their notice. I was an objectof attention. Even that first evening I felt the difference. 

"Daisy, when is your mother coming home?" — "Oh, she is goneto China; Daisy's mother is gone to China!" — "She'll bringyou lots of queer things, won't she?" — "What a sweet dress!"— "_That_ didn't come from China?" — "Daisy, who's head inmathematics, you or St. Clair? I hope you will get beforeher!"

"Why?" I ventured to ask. 

"Oh, you're the best of the two; everybody knows that. But St. Clair is smart, isn't she?"

"She thinks she is, " answered another speaker; "she believesshe's at the tip top of creation; but she never had such apretty dress on as that in her days; and she knows it and shedon't like it. It's real fun to see St. Clair beat! she thinksshe is so much better than other girls, and she has such a wayof twisting that upper lip of hers. Do you know how St. Clairtwists her upper lip? Look! — she's doing it now. "

"She's handsome though, aint she?" said Miss Macy. "She'll bebeautiful. "

"No, " said Mlle. Genevieve; "not that. Never that. She will behandsome; but beauty is a thing of the soul. She will not bebeautiful. Daisy, are you going to work hard this year?"

"Yes, mademoiselle. "

"I believe you, " she said, taking my face between her twohands and kissing it. 

"Who ever saw Mlle. Genevieve do that before!" said Miss Macy, as the other left us. "She is not apt to like the scholars. "

I knew she had always liked me. But everybody had always likedme, I reflected; this time at school was the first of myknowing anything different. And in this there now came achange. Since my wearing and using the Paris things sent me bymy mother, which I dared not fail to use and wear, I noticedthat my company was more sought in the school. Also my wordswere deferred to, in a way they had not been before. I found, and it was lot an unpleasant thing, that I had grown to be aperson of consequence. Even with the French and Englishteachers; I observed that they treated me with moreconsideration. And so, I reflected within myself again overDr. Sandford's observation, "_L'habit, c'est l'homme_. " Ofcourse, it was a consideration given to my clothes, aconsideration also to be given up if I did not wear suchclothes. I saw all that. The world _knew me_, just for themoment. 

Well, the smooth way was very pleasant. I had it witheverybody for a time. 

My little room-mate and classmate St. Clair was perhaps theonly exception to the general rule. I never felt that sheliked me much. She let me alone, however; until one unluckyday — I do not mean to call it unlucky, either — when we had, as usual, compositions to write, and the theme given out was"Ruins. " It was a delightful theme to me. I did not alwaysenjoy writing compositions; this one gave me permission toroam in thoughts and imaginations that I liked. I went back tomy old Egyptian studies at Magnolia, and wrote my compositionabout "Karnak. " The subject was full in my memory; I had goneover and over and all through it; I had measured the enormouspillars and great gateways, and studied the sculptures on thewalls, and paced up and down the great avenue of sphinxes. Sethos, and Amunoph and Rameses, the second and third, wereall known and familiar to me; and I knew just where Shishakhad recorded his triumphs over the land of Judea. I wrote mycomposition with the greatest delight. The only danger wasthat I might make it too long. 

One evening I was using the last of the light, writing in thewindow recess of the school parlour, when I felt a hand laidon my shoulders. 

"You are so hard at work!" said the voice of Mlle. Genevieve. 

"Yes, mademoiselle, I like it. "

"Have you got all the books and all that you want?"

"Books, mademoiselle?" — I said, wondering. 

"Yes; have you got all you want?"

"I have not got any books, " I said; "there are none that Iwant in the school library. "

"Have you never been in Madame's library?"

"No, mademoiselle. "

"Come!"

I jumped up and followed her, up and down stairs and throughhalls and turnings, till she brought me into a pretty roomlined with books from floor to ceiling. Nobody was there. Mademoiselle lit the gas with great energy, and then turned tome, her great black eyes shining. 

"Now what do you want, _mon enfant?_ here is everything. "

"Is there anything about Egypt?"

"Egypt! Are you in Egypt? — See here — look, here is Denon —here is Laborde; here is two or three more. Do you like that?Ah! I see by the way your grey eyes grow big. — Now sit down, and do what you like. Nobody will disturb you. You can comehere every evening for the hour before tea. "

Mademoiselle scarce staid for my thanks, and left me alone. Ihad not seen either Laborde or Denon in my grandfather'slibrary at Magnolia; they were after his time. The engravingsand illustrations also had not been very many or very fine inhis collection of travellers' books. It was the greatest joyto me to see some of those things in Mme. Ricard's library, that I had read and dreamed about so long in my head. It wasadding eyesight to hearsay. I found a good deal too that Iwanted to read, in these later authorities. Evening afterevening I was in Madame's library, lost among the halls of theold Egyptian conquerors. 

The interest and delight of my work quite filled me, so thatthe fate of my composition hardly came into my thoughts, orthe fact that other people were writing compositions too. Andwhen it was done, I was simply very sorry that it was done. Ihad not written it for honour or for duty, but for love. Isuppose that was the reason why it succeeded. I remember I wasanything but satisfied with it myself, as I was reading italoud for the benefit of my judges. For it was a day of prizecompositions; and before the whole school and even somevisitors, the writings of the girls were given aloud, each byits author. I thought, as I read mine, how poor it was, andhow magnificent my subject demanded that it should be. Underthe shade of the great columns, before those fine oldsphinxes, my words and myself seemed very small. I sat down inmy place again, glad that the reading was over. 

But there was a little buzz; then a dead expectant silence;then Mme. Ricard arose. My composition had been the last one. I looked up, with the rest, to hear the award that she wouldspeak; and was at first very much confounded to hear my ownname called. "Miss Randolph —" It did not occur to me what itwas spoken for; I sat still a moment in a maze. Mme. Ricardstood waiting; all the room was in a hush. 

"Don't you hear yourself called?" said a voice behind me. "Whydon't you go?"

I looked round at Miss Macy, who was my adviser, thendoubtfully I looked away from her and caught the eyes of Mlle. Genevieve. She nodded and beckoned me to come forward. I didit hastily then, and found myself curtseying in front of theplatform where stood Madame. 

"The prize is yours, Miss Randolph, " she said graciously. "Your paper is approved by all the judges. "

"Quite artistic, " — I heard a gentleman say at her elbow. "Andit shows an amount of thorough study and perfect preparation, which I can but hold up as a model to all my young ladies. Youdeserve this, my dear. "

I was confounded; and a low curtsey was only a natural reliefto my feelings. But Madame unhappily took it otherwise. 

"This is yours, " she said, putting into my hands an elegantlittle bronze standish; — "and if I had another prize tobestow for grace of good manners, I am sure I would have thepleasure of giving you that too. "

I bent again before Madame, and got back to my seat as Icould. The great business of the day was over, and we soonscattered to our rooms. And I had not been in mine fiveminutes before the penalties of being distinguished began tocome upon me. 

"Well, Daisy! —" said Miss Lansing — "you've got it. Howpretty! Isn't it, Macy?"

"It isn't a bit prettier than it ought to be, for a prize insuch a school, " said Miss Macy. "It will do. "

"I've seen handsomer prizes, " said Miss Bentley. 

"But you've got it, more ways than one, Daisy, " Miss Lansingwent on. "I declare! Aren't you a distinguished young lady!Madame, too! Why, we all used to think we behaved pretty well_before company_, — didn't we, St. Clair?"

"I hate favour and favouritism!" said that young lady, herupper lip taking the peculiar turn to which my attention hadonce been called. "Madame likes whatever is French. "

"But Randolph is not French, are you, Randolph ?" said Black-eyes, who was good-natured through everything. 

"Madame is not French herself, " said Miss Bentley. 

"I hate everything at school!" St. Clair went on. 

"It is too bad, " said her friend. "Do you know, Daisy, St. Clair always has the prize for compositions. What made you goand write that long stuff about Rameses? the people didn'tunderstand it, and so they thought it was fine. "

"I am sure there was a great deal finer writing in Faustina'scomposition, " said Miss Bentley. 

I knew very well that Miss St. Clair had been accustomed towin this half yearly prize for good writing. I had expectednothing but that she would win it this time. I had countedneither o n my own success nor on the displeasure it wouldraise. I took my hat and went over to my dear Miss Cardigan;hoping that ill-humour would have worked itself out bybedtime. But I was mistaken. 

St. Clair and I had been pretty near each other in ourclasses, though once or twice lately I had got an advantageover her; but we had kept on terms of cool social distanceuntil now. Now the spirit of rivalry was awake. I think itbegan to stir at my Paris dresses and things; Karnak and Mme. Ricard finished the mischief. 

On my first coming to school I had been tempted, in my horrorat the utter want of privacy, to go to bed without prayer;waiting till the rest were all laid down and asleep and thelights out, and then slipping out of bed with great care notto make a noise, and watching that no whisper of my lipsshould be loud enough to disturb anybody's slumbers. But I wassure, after a while, that this was a cowardly way of doing;and I could not bear the words, "Whosoever shall be ashamed ofMe, and of My words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when He cometh in the glory of His Father. " I determined inthe vacation that I would do so no more, cost what it mightthe contrary. It cost a tremendous struggle. I think, in allmy life I have done few harder things, than it was to me thento kneel down by the side of my bed in full blaze of thegaslights and with four curious pairs of eyes around to lookon; to say nothing of the four busy tongues wagging aboutnothing all the time. I remember what a hush fell upon themthe first night; while beyond the posture of prayer I could dolittle. Only unformed or half formed thoughts and petitionsstruggled in my mind, through a crowd of jostling regrets andwishes and confusions, in which I could hardly distinguishanything. But no explosion followed, of either ridicule oramusement, and I had been suffered from that night to do as Iwould, not certainly always in silence, but quite unmolested. 

I had carried over my standish to Miss Cardigan to ask her totake care of it for me; I had no place to keep it. But MissCardigan was not satisfied to see the prize; she wanted tohear the essay read; and was altogether so elated that alittle undue elation perhaps crept into my own heart. It wasnot a good preparation for what was coming. 

I went home in good time. In the hall, however, Mlle. Genevieve seized upon me; she had several things to say, andbefore I got up stairs to my room all the rest of its inmateswere in bed. I hoped they were asleep. I heard no sound whileI was undressing, nor while I knelt, as usual now, by mybedside. But as I rose from my knees I was startled by a sortof grunt that came from St. Clair's corner. 

"Humph! — Dear me! We're so good, — Grace and Devotion, —Christian grace, too!"

"Hold your tongue, St. Clair, " said Miss Macy, but not in away, I thought, to check her; if she could have been checked. 

"But it's too bad, Macy, " said the girl. "We're all so rough, you know. We don't know how to behave ourselves; we can't makecurtsies; our mothers never taught us anything, — and dancingmasters are no good. We ought to go to Egypt. There isn'tanything so truly dignified as a pyramid. There is a greatdeal of _ΰ plomb_ there!"

"Who talked about _ΰ plomb_?" said Miss Bentley. 

"You have enough of that, at any rate, Faustina, " saidLansing. 

"Mrs. St. Clair's child ought to have that, " said Miss Macy. 

"Ah, but it isn't Christian grace, after all, " persistedFaustina. "You want a cross at the top of a pyramid to make itperfect. "

"Hush, Faustina!" said Miss Macy. 

"It's fair, " said Miss Bentley. 

"You had better not talk about Christian grace, girls. Thatisn't a matter of opinion. "

"Oh, isn't it!" cried St. Clair, half rising up in her bed. "What is it, then?"

Nobody answered. 

"I say! — Macy, what _is_ Christian grace — if you know? If you_don't_ know, I'll put you in the way to find out. "

"How shall I find out?"

"Will you do it, if I show it to you?"

"Yes. "

"Ask Randolph. That's the first step. Ask her, — yes! just askher, if you want to know. I wish Mme. Ricard was here to hearthe answer. "

"Nonsense!" said Macy. 

"Ask her! You said you would. Now ask her. "

"What _is_ Christian grace, Daisy?" said Miss Bentley. 

I heard, but I would not answer. I hoped the storm would blowover, after a puff or two. But Black-eyes, without any ill-nature, I think, which was not in her, had got into the gale. She slipped out of bed and came to my side, putting her handon my shoulder and bringing her laughing mouth down near myear. A very angry impulse moved me before she spoke. 

"Daisy!" — she said, laughing, in a loud whisper, — "come, wake up! You're not asleep, you know. Wake up and tell us; —everybody knows _you_ know; — what _is_ Christian grace? Daisy! —"

She shook me a little. 

"If you knew, you would not ask me, " — I said in greatdispleasure. But a delighted shout from all my room-matesanswered this unlucky speech, which I had been too excited tomake logical. 

"Capital!" cried St. Clair. "That's just it — we _don't_ know;and we only want to find out whether she a does. Make hertell, Lansing — prick a little pin into her — that will bringit out. "

I was struggling between anger and sorrow, feeling very hurt, and at the same time determined not to cry. I kept absolutelystill, fighting the fight of silence with myself. ThenLansing, in a fit of thoughtless mischief, finding her shakesand questions vain, actually put in practice St. Clair'ssuggestion and attacked me with a pin from the dressing table. The first prick of it overthrew the last remnant of mypatience. 

"Miss Lansing!" — I exclaimed, rousing up in bed andconfronting her. They all shouted again. 

"Now we'll have it!" cried St. Clair. "Keep cool, Black-eyes;let's hear — we'll have an exposition now. Theme, Christiangrace. "

Ah, there rushed through my heart with her words a remembranceof other words — a fluttering vision of something "gentle andeasy to be entreated" — "first pure, then peaceable" —"gentleness, goodness, meekness. " — But the grip of passionheld them all down or kept them all back. After St. Clair'sfirst burst, the girls were still and waited for what I wouldsay. I was facing Miss Lansing, who had taken her hand from myshoulder. 

"Are you not ashamed of yourself?" I said; and I remember Ithought how my mother would have spoken to them. "MissLansing's good nature" — I went on slowly, — "Miss Macy'skindness — Miss Bentley's independence — and Miss St. Clair'sgood breeding!" —

"_And_ Miss Randolph's religion!" echoed the last-named, with aquiet distinctness which went into my heart. 

"What about my independence?" said Miss Bentley. 

"Now we've got enough, girls, — lie down and go to sleep, "said Miss Macy. "There's quite enough of this. There was toomuch before we began. Stop where you are. "

They did not stop, however, without a good deal of noisychaffing and arguing, none of which I heard. Only the words, "Miss Randolph's religion, " rung in my ears. I lay down withthem lying like lead on my heart. I went to sleep under them. I woke up early, while all the rest were asleep, and began tostudy them. 

"Miss Randolph's religion!" If it had been only that, onlymine. But the religion I professed was the religion of Christ;the name I was called by was His name; the thing I had broughtinto discredit was His truth. I hope in all my life I maynever know again the heart-pangs that this thought cost me. Istudied how to undo the mischief I had done. I could find noway. I had seemed to prove my religion an unsteady, superficial thing; the evidence I had given I could notwithdraw; it must stand. I lay thinking, with the heartache, until the rousing bell rang, and the sleepers began to stirfrom their slumbers. I got up and began, to dress with therest. 

"What was it all that happened last night?" said Miss Lansing. 

"Advancement in knowledge, " — said. Miss St. Clair. 

"Now, girls — don't begin again, " said Miss Macy. 

"Knowledge is a good thing, " said the other, with pins in hermouth. "I intend to take every opportunity that offers ofincreasing mine; especially I mean to study Egyptians andChristians. I haven't any Christians among my own family oracquaintance — so you see, naturally, Macy, I am curious; andwhen a good specimen offers —"

"I am not a good specimen, " I said. 

"People are not good judges of themselves, it is said, " thegirl went on. "Everybody considers Miss Randolph a sample ofwhat that article ought to be. "

"You don't use the word right, " remarked Miss Macy. "A _sample_is taken from what is, — not from what ought to be. "

"I don't care, " was St. Clair's reply. 

"I did not behave like a Christian last night, " I forcedmyself to say. "I was impatient. "

"Like an impatient Christian then, I suppose, " said St. Clair. 

I felt myself getting impatient again, with all my sorrow andhumiliation of heart. And yet more humbled at theconsciousness, I hastened to get out of the room. It was amiserable day, that day of my first school triumphs, and sowere several more that followed. I was very busy; I had notime for recollection and prayer; I was in the midst ofgratulations and plaudits from my companions and the teachers;and I missed, Oh how I missed, the praise of God. I felt likea traitor. In the heat of the fight, I had let my colours cometo the ground. I had dishonoured my Captain. Some would say itwas a little thing; but I felt then and I know now, there areno little things; I knew I had done harm; how much, it wasutterly beyond my reach to know. 

As soon as I could I seized an opportunity to get to MissCardigan. I found her among her flowers, nipping off here aleaf and there a flower that had passed its time; so busy, that for a few moments she did not see that I was differentfrom usual. Then came the question which I had been lookingfor. 

"Daisy, you are not right to-day?"

"I haven't been right since I got that standish, " I burstforth. 

Miss Cardigan looked at me again, and then did what I had notexpected; she took my head between her two hands and kissedme. Not loosing her hold, she looked into my face. 

"What is it, my pet?"

"Miss Cardigan, " I said, "can any one be a Christian and yet —yet —"

"Do something unworthy a Christian?" she said. "I wot well, they can! But then, they are weak Christians. "

I knew that before. But somehow, hearing her say it broughtthe shame and the sorrow more fresh to the surface. The tearscame. Miss Cardigan pulled me into the next room and sat down, drawing me into her arms; and I wept there with her arms aboutme. 

"What then, Daisy?" she asked at length, as if the suspensepained her. 

"I acted so, Miss Cardigan, " I said; and I told her about it. 

"So the devil has found a weak spot in your armour, " she said. "You must guard it well, Daisy. "

"How can I?"

"How can you? Keep your shield before it, my bairn. What isyour shield for? The Lord has given you a great strong shield, big enough to cover you from head to foot, if your hands knowhow to manage it. "

"What is that, Miss Cardigan?"

"The shield of _faith_, dear. Only believe. According to yourfaith be it unto you. "

"Believe what?" I asked, lifting my head at last. 

"Believe that if you are a weak little soldier, your Captainknows all about it; and any fight that you go into for hissake, he will bear you through. I don't care what. Any fight, Daisy. "

"But I got impatient, " I said, "at the girls' way of talking. "

"And perhaps you were a wee bit set up in your heart becauseyou had got the prize of the day. "

"_Proud?_" said I. 

"Don't it look like it? Even proud of being a Christian, mayhap. "

"Could I!" — I said. "Was I?"

"It wouldn't be the first time one with as little cause hadgot puffed up a bit. But heavenly charity 'is not puffed up. ' "

"I know that, " — I said; and my tears started afresh. 

"How shall I help it in future?" I asked after a while, duringwhich my friend had been silent. 

"Help it?" she said cheerfully. "You can't help it, — butJesus can. "

"But my impatience, and — my pride, " I said, very downcast. 

" 'Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; when I fall I shallarise. ' But there is no need you should fall, Daisy. Remember, 'The Lord is able to make him stand' — may be said of everyone of the Lord's people. "

"But will He keep me from impatience, and take pride out of myheart? Why, I did not know it was there, Miss Cardigan. "

"Did He say, 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will doit?' And when He has written 'Whatsoever, ' are you going towrite it over and put 'anything not too hard'? Neither you norme, Daisy!"

" '_Whatsoever_' — Miss Cardigan?" I said slowly. 

"He said so. Are you going to write it over again?"

"No, " I said. "But then, may one have _anything_ one asks for?"

"Anything in the world — if it is not contrary to His will —provided we ask in faith, nothing doubting. 'For he thatwavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind andtossed. For let not that man think that he shall receiveanything of the Lord. ' "

"But how can we _know_ what is according to His will?"

"_This_ is, at any rate, " said Miss Cardigan; "for He hascommanded us to be holy as He is holy. "

"But — other things?" I said. "How can one for everything 'infaith, nothing wavering'? How can one be sure?"

"Only just this one way, Daisy my dear, " Miss Cardigananswered; — and I remember to this day the accent of hernative land which touched every word. "If ye're wholly theLord's — wholly, mind, — ye'll not like aught but what theLord likes; ye'll know what to ask for, and ye'll know theLord will give it to you; — that is, if ye want it _enough_. Buta 'double-minded man is unstable in all his ways;' and hisprayers can't hit the mark, no more than a gun that's twistedwhen it's going off. "

"Then, " — I began and stopped, looking at her with my eyesfull of tears. 

"Ay!" she said, — "just so. There's no need that you nor meshould be under the power of the evil one, for we're _free_. TheLord's words aren't too good to be true; every one of 'em isas high as heaven; and there isn't a sin nor an enemy but youand I may be safe from, if we trust the Lord. "

I do not remember any more of the conversation. I only knowthat the sun rose on my difficulties, and the shadows meltedaway. I had a happy evening with my dear old friend, and wenthome quite heart-whole. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

GREY COATS. 

I went back to school comforted. I had got strength to faceall that might be coming in the future. And life has been adifferent thing to me ever since. Paul's words, "I can do allthings through Christ, " — I have learned are not his words anymore than mine. 

From that time I grew more and more popular in the school. Icannot tell why; but, popularity is a thing that grows uponits own growth. It was only a little while before mycompanions almost all made a pet of me. It is humbling to knowthat this effect was hastened by some of the French dresses mymother had sent me, and which convenience obliged me to wear. They were extremely pretty; the girls came round me to knowwhere I got them, and talked about who I was; and "DaisyRandolph, " was the name most favoured by their lips from thattime until school closed. — With the exception, I must add, ofmy four room-mates. Miss St. Clair held herself entirely alooffrom me, and the others chose her party rather than mine. St. Clair never lost, I think, any good chance or omitted any fairscheme to provoke me; but all she could do had lost its power. I tried to soften her; but Faustina was a rock to my advances. I knew I had done irreparable wrong that evening; the thoughtof it was almost the only trouble I had during those months. 

An old trouble was brought suddenly home to me one day. I wastold a person wanted to speak to me in the lower hall. I randown, and found Margaret. She was in the cloak and dress I hadbought for her; looking at first very gleeful, and then verybusiness-like, as she brought out from under her cloak a bitof paper folded with something in it. 

"What is this?" I said, finding a roll of bills. 

"It's my wages, Miss Daisy. I only kept out two dollars, ma'am— I wanted a pair of shoes so bad — and I couldn't be let goabout the house in them old shoes with holes in 'em; there washoles in both of 'em, Miss Daisy. "

"But your wages, Margaret?" I said; "I have nothing to do withyour wages. "

"Yes, Miss Daisy — they belongs to master, and I allowed tobring 'em to you. They's all there so fur. It's all right. "

I felt the hot shame mounting to my face. I put the money backin Margaret's hand, and hurriedly told her to keep it; we werenot at Magnolia; she might do what she liked with the money;it was her own earnings. 

I shall never forget the girl's confounded look, and then hergrin of brilliant pleasure. I could have burst into tears as Iwent up the stairs, thinking of others at home. Yet thequestion came too, would my father like what I had been doing?He held the girl to be his property and her earnings hisearnings. Had I been giving Margaret a lesson in rebellion, and preparing her to claim her rights at some future day?Perhaps. And I made up my mind that I did not care. Live uponstolen money I would not, — any more than I could help. Butwas I not living on it all the while? The old subject broughtback! I worried over it all the rest of the day, with many alook forward and back. 

As the time of the vacation drew near, I looked hard for newsof my father and mother, or tidings of their coming home. There were none. Indeed, I got no letters at all. That wasnothing to cause uneasiness; the intervals were often longbetween one packet of letters and the next; but now I wantedto hear of some change, now that the school year was ended. Ithad been a good year to me. In that little world I had met andfaced some of the hardest temptations of the great world; theycould never be new to me again; and I had learned both myweakness and my strength. 

No summons to happiness reached me that year. My vacation wasspent again with my aunt Gary, and without Preston. Septembersaw me quietly settled at my studies for another school year;to be gone through with what patience I might. 

That school year had nothing to chronicle. I was very busy, very popular, kindly treated by my teachers, and happy in asmooth course of life. Faustina St. Clair had been removedfrom the school; to some other I believe; and with her wentall my causes of annoyance. The year rolled round, my fatherand mother in China or on the high seas; and my sixteenthsummer opened upon me. 

A day or two before the close of school, I was called to theparlour to see a lady. Not my aunt; it was Mrs. Sandford; andthe doctor was with her. 

I had not seen Mrs. Sandford, I must explain, for nearly ayear; she had been away in another part of the country, farfrom New York. 

"Why, Daisy! — is this Daisy?" she exclaimed. 

"Is it not?" I asked. 

"Not the old Daisy. You are so grown, my dear! — so — That'sright, Grant; let us have a little light to see each otherby. "

"It is Miss Randolph —" said the doctor, after he had drawn upthe window shade. 

"Like her mother! Isn't she? and yet, not like —"

"Not at all like. "

"She is, though, Grant; you are mistaken; she is like hermother; though as I said, she isn't. I never saw anybody soimproved. My dear, I shall tell all my friends to send theirdaughters to Mme. Ricard. "

"Dr. Sandford, " said I, "Mme. Ricard does not like to have thesun shine into this room. "

"It's Daisy too, " said the doctor, smiling, as he drew clownthe shade again. "Don't you like it, Miss Daisy?"

"Yes, of course, " I said; "but she does not. "

"It is not at all a matter of course, " said he; "except as youare Daisy. Some people, as you have just told me, are afraidof the sun. "

"Oh, that is only for the carpets, " I said. 

Dr. Sandford gave me a good look, like one of his looks of oldtimes, that carried me right back somehow to Juanita'scottage. 

"How do you do, Daisy?"

"A little pale, " said Mrs. Sandford. 

"Let her speak for herself. "

I said I did not know I was pale. 

"Did you know you had headache a good deal of the time?"

"Yes, Dr. Sandford, I knew that. It is not very bad. "

"Does not hinder you from going on with study?"

"Oh no, never. "

"You have a good deal of time for study at night, too, do younot? — after the lights are out?"

"At night? how did you know that? But it is not always _study_. "

"No. You consume also a good deal of beef and mutton, now-a-days? you prefer substantials in food as in everything else?"

I looked at my guardian, very much surprised that he shouldsee all this in my face, and with a little of my childishfascination about those steady blue eyes. I could not denythat in these days I scarcely lived by eating. But in theeagerness and pleasure of my pursuits I had not missed it, andamid my many busy and anxious thoughts I had not cared aboutit. 

"That will do, " said the doctor. "Daisy, have you heard latelyfrom your father or mother?"

My breath came short, as I said no. 

"Nor have I. Failing orders from them, you are bound torespect mine; and I order you change of air, and to gowherever Mrs. Sandford proposes to take you. "

"Not before school closes, Dr. Sandford?"

"Do you care about that?"

"My dear child, " said Mrs. Sandford, "we are going to WestPoint — and we want to take you with us. I know you will enjoyit, my dear; and I shall be delighted to have you. But we wantto go next week. "

"Do you care, Daisy?" Dr. Sandford repeated. 

I had to consider. One week more, and the examination would beover and the school term ended. I was ready for theexamination; I expected to keep my standing, which was veryhigh; by going away now I should lose that, and miss somedistinction. So at least I thought. I found that severalthings were at work in my heart that I had not known werethere. After a minute I told Mrs. Sandford I would go with herwhen she pleased. 

"You have made up your mind that you do not care about stayingto the end here?" said the doctor. 

"Dr. Sandford, " I said, "I believe I _do_ care; but not aboutanything worth while. "

He took both my hands, standing before me, and looked at me, Ithought, as if I were the old little child again. 

"A course of fresh air, " he said, "will do you more good thana course of any other thing just now. And we may find'wonderful things' at West Point, Daisy. "

"I expect you will enjoy it, Daisy, " Mrs. Sandford repeated. 

There was no fear. I knew I should see Preston at any rate;and I had been among brick walls for many months. I winced alittle at thought of missing all I had counted upon at theclose of term; but it was mainly pride that winced, so it wasno matter. 

We left the city three or four days later. It was a June day —can I ever forget it? What a brilliance of remembrance comesover me now! The bustle of the close schoolrooms, the heat anddust of the sunny city streets, were all left behind in anhour; and New York was nowhere! The waves of the riversparkled under a summer breeze; the wall of the palisadesstretched along, like the barriers of fairyland; so theyseemed to me; only the barrier was open and I was about toenter. So till their grey and green ramparts were passed, andthe broader reaches of the river beyond, and as evening beganto draw in we came to higher shores and a narrower channel, and were threading our way among the lights and shadows ofopposing headlands and hilltops. It grew but more fresh andfair as the sun got lower. Then, in a place where the riverseemed to come to an end, the _Pipe of Peace_ drew close, inunder the western shore, to a landing. Buildings of grey stoneclustered and looked over the bank. Close under the bank'sgreen fringes a little boat-house and large clean wooden pierreceived us; from the landing a road went steeply sloping up. I see it all now in the colours which clothed it then. I thinkI entered fairyland when I touched foot to shore. Even down atthe landing, everything was clean and fresh and in order. Thegreen branches of that thick fringe which reached to the topof the bank had no dust on them; the rocks were parti-colouredwith lichens; the river was bright, flowing and rippling past;the _Pipe of Peace_ had pushed off and sped on, and in anotherminute or two was turning the point, and then — out of sight. Stillness seemed to fill the woods and the air as the beat ofher paddles was lost. I breathed stillness. New York was fiftymiles away, physically and morally at the antipodes. 

I find it hard to write without epithets. As I said I was infairyland; and how shall one describe fairyland?

Dr. Sandford broke upon my reverie by putting me into theomnibus. But the omnibus quite belonged to fairyland too; itdid not go rattling and jolting, but stole quietly up the longhill; letting me enjoy a view of the river and the hills ofthe opposite shore, coloured as they were by the setting sun, and crisp and sharp in the cool June air. Then a great round-topped building came in place of my view; the road took a turnbehind it. 

"What is that?" I asked the doctor. 

"I am sorry, Daisy, I don't know. I am quite as ignorant asyourself. "

"That is the riding-hall, " I heard somebody say. 

One omnibus full had gone up before us; and there, were onlytwo or three people in ours besides our own party. I lookedround, and saw that the information had been given by a youngman in a sort of uniform; he was all in grey, with large roundgilt buttons on his coat, and a soldier's cap. The words hadbeen spoken in a civil tone, that tempted me on. 

"Thank you!" I said. "The riding-hall! — who rides in it?"

"We do, " he said, and then smiled, — "the cadets. "

It was a frank smile and a pleasant face and utterly the lookof a gentleman. So, though I saw that he was very much amused, either at himself or me, I went on —

"And those other buildings ?"

"Those are the stables. "

I wondered at the neat, beautiful order of the place. Then, the omnibus slowly mounting the hill, the riding-hall andstables were lost to sight. Another building, of morepretension, appeared on our left hand, on the brow of theascent; our road turned the corner round this building, andbeneath a grove of young trees the gothic buttresses andwindows of grey stone peeped out. Carefully dressed greenturf, with gravelled walks leading front different directionsto the doors, looked as if this was a place of business. Somebody pulled the string here and the omnibus stopped. 

"This is the library, " my neighbour in grey remarked — andwith that rising and lifting his cap, he jumped out. I watchedhim rapidly walking into the library; he was tall, very erect, with a fine free carriage and firm step. But then the omnibuswas moving on and I turned to the other side. And the beautytook away my breath. There was the green plain, girdled withtrees and houses, beset with hills, the tops of which I couldsee in the distance, with the evening light upon them. Theomnibus went straight over the plain; green and smooth andfresh, it lay on the one side and on the other side of us, excepting one broad strip on the right. I wondered what hadtaken off the grass there; but then we passed within a hedgeenclosure and drew up at the hotel steps. 

"Have you met an acquaintance already, Daisy?" Dr. Sandfordasked as he handed me out. 

"An acquaintance?" said I. "No, but I shall fine him soon, Isuppose. " For I was thinking of Preston. But I forgot Prestonthe next minute. Mrs. Sandford had seized my hand and drew meup the piazza steps and through the hall, out to the piazza atthe north side of the house. I was in fairyland surely! I hadthought so before, but I knew it now. Those grand hills, inthe evening colours, standing over against each other on theeast and on the west, and the full magnificent river lyingbetween them, bright and stately, were like nothing I had everseen or imagined. My memory goes back now to point after pointof delight which bewildered me. There was a dainty little sailsweeping across just at the bend of the river; I have seenmany since; I never forget that one. There was a shoulder ofone of the eastern hills, thrown out towards the south-west, over which the evening light fell in a mantle of soft gold, with a fold of shadow on the other side. The tops of thoseeastern hills were warm with sunlight, and here and there aslope of the western hills. There was a point of lower ground, thrust out into the river between me and the eastern shore, which lay wholly in shadow, one soft mass of dusky green, rounding out into a promontory. Above it, beyond it, at thefoot of the hills, a white church spire rose sharp as aneedle. It is all before me, even the summer stillness inwhich my senses were rapt. There was a clatter in the housebehind me, but I did not hear it then. 

I was obliged to go away to get ready for tea. The house wasfull; only one room could be spared for Mrs. Sandford and me. That one had been engaged beforehand, and its window lookedover the same view I had seen from the piazza. I took my postat this window while waiting for Mrs. Sandford. Cooler andcrisper the lights, cooler and grayer the shadows had grown;the shoulder of the east mountain had lost its mantle oflight; just a gleam rested on a peak higher up; and my singlewhite sail was getting small in the distance, beating up theriver. I was very happy. My school year, practically, wasfinished, and I was vaguely expecting some order or turn ofaffairs which would join me to my father and mother. Iremember well what a flood of satisfied joy poured into myheart as I stood at the window. I seemed to myself so veryrich, to taste all that delight of hills and river; therichness of God's giving struck me with a sort of wonder. Andthen, being so enriched, and tasting the deep treasures ofheaven and earth which I had been made to know, happy soexceedingly, — it came to my heart with a kind of pang, thelonging to make others know what I knew; and the secretdetermination to use all my strength as Christ's servant, — inbringing others to the joy of the knowledge of him. 

I was called from my window then, and my view was exchangedfor the crowded dining-room, where I could eat nothing. Butafter tea we got out upon the piazza again, and a soft north-west breeze seemed to be food and refreshment too. Mrs. Sandford soon found a colonel and a general to talk to; butDr. Sandford sat down by me. 

"How do you like it, Daisy?"

I told him, and thanked him for bringing me. 

"Are you tired?"

"No — I don't think I am tired. "

"You are not hungry of course, for you can eat nothing. Do youthink you shall sleep?"

"I don't feel like it now. I do not generally get sleepy till agreat while after this. "

"You will go to sleep somewhere about nine o'clock, " said thedoctor; "and not wake up till you are called in the morning. "

I thought he was mistaken, but as I could not prove it I saidnothing. 

"Are you glad to get away from school?"

"On some accounts. I like school too, Dr. Sandford; but thereare some things I do not like. "

"That remark might be made, Daisy, about every condition oflife with which I am acquainted. "

"I could not make it just now, " I said. 

He smiled. 

"Have you secured a large circle of friends among yourschoolmates, — that are to last for ever?"

"I do not think they love me well enough for that, " I said, wondering somewhat at my guardian's questioning mood. 

"Nor you them?"

"I suppose not. "

"Why, Daisy, " said Mrs. Sandford, "I am surprised! I thoughtyou used to love everybody. "

I tried to think how that might be, and whether I had changed. Dr. Sandford interrupted my thoughts again —

"How is it with friends out of school?"

"I have none, " I said; thinking only of girls like myself. 

"None?" he said. "Do you really know nobody in New York?"

"Nobody, — but one old lady. "

"Who is that, Daisy?"

He asked short and coolly, like one who had a right to know;and then I remembered he had the right. I gave him MissCardigan's name and number. 

"Who is she? and who lives with her?"

"Nobody lives with her; she has only her servants. "

"What do you know about her then, besides what she has toldyou? Excuse me, and please have the grace to satisfy me. "

"I know I must, " I said half laughing. 

"_Must?_"

"You know I must too, Dr. Sandford. "

"I don't know it indeed, " said he. "I know I must ask; but Ido not know what power can force you to answer. "

"Isn't it my duty, Dr. Sandford?"

"Nobody but Daisy Randolph would have asked that question, " hesaid. "Well, if duty is on my side, I know I am powerful. But, Daisy, you always used to answer me, in times when there wasno duty in the case. "

"I remember, " I said, smiling to think of it; "but I was achild then, Dr. Sandford. "

"Oh! — Well, apropos of duty, you may go on about MissCardigan. "

"I do not know a great deal to tell. Only that she is verygood, very kind to me and everybody; very rich, I believe; andvery wise, I think. I know nothing more — except the way hermoney was made. "

"How was it ?"

"I have heard that her mother was a market-woman, " I said veryunwillingly; for I knew the conclusions that would be drawn. 

"Is it likely, " Dr. Sandford said slowly, "that the daughterof a market-woman should be a good friend in every respect forthe daughter of Mrs. Randolph?"

"It may not be _likely_, " I answered with equal slowness; — "butit is true. "

"Can you prove your position, Daisy?"

"What is your objection to her, Dr. Sandford?"

"Simply what you have told me. The different classes ofsociety are better apart. "

I was silent. If Miss Cardigan was not of my class, I knew Iwanted to be of hers. There were certain words running in myhead about "a royal priesthood, a peculiar people, " andcertain other words too — which I thought it was no use totell Dr. Sandford. 

"She has no family, you say, nor friends who live with her, orwhom you meet at her house?"

"None at all. I think she is quite alone. "

There was silence again. That is, between the doctor and me. Mrs. Sandford and her officers kept up a great run of talkhard by. 

"Now, Daisy, " said the doctor, "you have studied the matter, and I do not doubt have formed a philosophy of your own bythis time. Pray make me the wiser. "

"I have no philosophy of my own, Dr. Sandford. "

"Your own thus far, that nobody shares it with you. "

"Is that your notion of me, " I said, laughing. 

"A very good notion. Nothing is worse than commonplace people. Indulge me, Daisy. "

So I thought I had better. 

"Dr. Sandford, — if you will indulge me. What is _your_ notionof dignity ?"

He passed his hand over his hair, with a comical face. It wasa very fine face, as I knew long ago; even a noble face. Asteady, clear blue eye like his, gives one a sure impressionof power in the character, and of sweetness too. I was glad hehad asked me the question, but I waited for him to answer minefirst. 

"My notion of dignity!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe I haveany, Daisy. "

"No, but we are talking seriously. "

"Very. We always are, when you are one of the talkers. "

"Then please explain your notion of dignity. "

"I know it when I see it, " said the doctor; "but faith! Idon't know what makes it. "

"Yes, but you think some people, or some classes, are set upabove others. "

"So do you. "

"What do you think makes the highest class, then?"

"You are going too deep, or too high, which is the same thing. All I mean is, that certain feet which fate has planted onlofty levels, ought not to come down from them. "

"But it is good to know where we stand. "

"Very, " said Dr. Sandford, laughing. That is, in his way oflaughing. It was never loud. 

"I will tell you where I want to stand, " I went on. "It is thehighest level of all. The Lord Jesus said, 'Whosoever shall dothe will of My Father which is in heaven, the same is MYBROTHER, and MY SISTER, and MOTHER. ' I want to be one ofthose. "

"But, Daisy, " said Dr. Sandford, "the society of the world isnot arranged on that principle. "

I knew it very well. I said nothing. 

"And you cannot, just yet, go out of the world. "

It was no use to tell Dr. Sandford what I thought. I wassilent still. 

"Daisy, " said he, "you are worse than you used to be. " And Iheard a little concern in his words, only half hid by thetone. 

"You do not suppose that such words as those you quoted justnow, were meant to be a practical guide in the daily affairsof life? Do you ?"

"How can I help it, Dr. Sandford?" I answered. "I would liketo have my friends among those whom the King will call Hissisters and brothers. "

"And what do you think of correct grammar, and clean hands?"he asked. 

"Clean hands!" I echoed. 

"You like them, " he said smiling. "The people you mean oftengo without them — if report says true. "

"Not the people _I_ mean, " I said. 

"And education, Daisy; and refined manners; and cultivatedtastes; what will you do without all these? In the society youspeak of they are seldom found. "

"You do not know the society I speak of, Dr. Sandford; andMiss Cardigan has all these, more or less; besides something agreat deal better. "

Dr. Sandford rose up suddenly and introduced me to a CaptainSouthgate who came up; and the conversation ran upon WestPoint things and nothings after that. I was going back over mymemory, to find in how far religion had been associated withsome other valued things in the instances of my experience, and I heard little of what was said. Mr. Dinwiddie had been agentleman, as much as any one I ever knew; he was the first. My old Juanita had the manners of a princess, and the tact ofa fine lady. Miss Cardigan was a capital compound of sense, goodness, business energies, and gentle wisdom. The others, —well, yes, they were of the despised orders of the world. Myfriend Darry, at the stables of Magnolia, — my friend Maria, in the kitchen of the great house, — the other sable and soberfaces that came around theirs in memory's grouping, — theywere not educated nor polished nor elegant. Yet well I knew, that having owned Christ before me, He would own them beforethe angels of heaven; and what would they be in that day! Iwas satisfied to be numbered with them. 

I slept, as Dr. Sandford had prophesied I would, that night. Iawoke to a vision of beauty. 

My remembrance of those days that followed is like a summermorning, with a diamond hanging to every blade of grass. 

I awoke suddenly, that first day, and rushed to the window. The light had broken, the sun was up; the crown of the morningwas upon the heads of the hills; here and there a light wreathof mist lay along their sides, floating slowly off, or softlydispersing; the river lay in quiet beauty waiting for thegilding that should come upon it. I listened — the brisk notesof a drum and fife came to my ear, playing one after anotherjoyous and dancing melody. I thought that never was a place soutterly delightsome as this place. With all speed I dressedmyself, noiselessly, so as not to waken Mrs. Sandford; andthen I resolved I would go out and see if I could not find aplace where I could be by myself; for in the house there wasno chance of it. I took Mr. Dinwiddie's Bible and stole downstairs. From the piazza where we had sat last night, a flightof steps led down. I followed it, and found another flight, and still another. The last landed me in a gravelled path; onetrack went down the steep face of the bank, on the brow ofwhich the hotel stood; another track crossed that and woundaway to my right, with a gentle downward slope. I went thisway. The air was delicious; the woods were musical with birdsthe morning light filled my pathway and, glancing from treesor rocks ahead of me, lured me on with a promise of glory. Iseemed to gather the promise as I went, and still I was drawnfurther and further. Glimpses of the river began to showthrough the trees; for all this bank side was thickly wooded. I left walking and took to running. At last I came out uponanother gravelled walk, low down on the hillside, lyingparallel with the river and open to it. Nothing lay betweenbut some masses of granite rock, grey and lichened, and a softfringe of green underbrush and small wood in the intervals. Moreover, I presently found a comfortable seat on a huge greystone, where the view was uninterrupted, by any wood growth;and if I thought before that this was fairyland, I now almostthought myself a fairy. The broad river was at my feet; themorning light was on all the shores, sparkled from the graniterocks below me and flashed from the polished leaves, andglittered on the water; filling all the blue above withradiance; touching here and there a little downy cloud;entering in and lying on my heart. I shall never forget it. The taste of the air was as one tastes life and strength andvigour. It all rolled in on me a great burden of joy. 

It was not the worst time or place in the world to read theBible. But how all the voices of nature seemed to flow in andmix with the reading, I cannot tell, no more than I can numberthem; the whirr of a bird's wing, the liquid note of a woodthrush, the stir and movement of a thousand leaves, the gurgleof rippling water, the crow's call, and the song-sparrow'secstasy. Once or twice the notes of a bugle found their waydown the hill, and reminded me that I was in a place ofdelightful novelty. It was just a fillip to my enjoyment, as Ilooked on and off my page alternately. 

By and by I heard footsteps, quick yet light footsteps, sounding on the gravel. Measured and quick they came; then twofigures rounded a point close by me. There were two, but theirfootfalls had sounded as one. They were dressed alike, all ingrey, like my friend in the omnibus. As they passed me, thenearest one hastily pulled off his cap, and I caught just aflash from a bright eye. It was the same. I looked after themas they left my point and were soon lost behind another;thinking that probably Preston was dressed so and had beentaught to walk so; and with renewed admiration of a placewhere the inhabitants kept such an exquisite neatness in theirdress and moved like music. There was a fulness of content inmy mind, as at length I slowly went back up my winding path tothe hotel, warned by the furious sounds of a gong thatbreakfast was in preparation. 

As I toiled up the last flight of steps I saw Dr. Sandford onthe piazza. His blue eye looked me all over and looked methrough, I felt. I was accustomed to that, both from thefriend and the physician, and rather liked it. 

"What is on the other side of the house?" I asked. 

"Let us go and see. " And as we went, the doctor took my bookfrom my hand to carry it for me. He opened it, too, and lookedat it. On the other side or two sides of the house stretchedaway the level green plain. At the back of it, stood houseshalf hidden by trees; indeed all round two sides of the plainthere vas a border of buildings and of flourishing trees asyell. Down the north side, from the hotel where we were, aroad went winding; likewise under arching trees; here andthere I could see cannon and a bit of some military work. Allthe centre of the plain was level and green, and empty; andfrom the hotel to the library stretched a broad strip of bareground, brown and dusty, alongside of the road by which we hadcome across last night. In the morning sun, as indeed underall other lights and at all other hours, this scene was one ofsatisfying beauty. Behind the row of houses at the westernedge of the plain, the hills rose up, green and wooded, heightabove height; and an old fortification stood out now under theeastern illumination, picturesque and grey, high up amongthem. As Dr. Sandford and I were silent and looking, I sawanother grey figure pass down the road. 

"Who are those people that wear grey, with a black stripe downthe leg?" I asked. 

"Grey?" said the doctor. "Where?"

"There is one yonder under the trees, " I said, "and there wasone in the omnibus yesterday. Are those the cadets?"

"I suppose so. "

"Then Preston wears that dress. I wonder how I shall find him, Dr. Sandford?"

"Find whom?" said the doctor, waking up. 

"My cousin Preston — Preston Gary. He is here. "

"Here?" repeated the doctor. 

"Yes — he is a cadet — didn't you know it? He has been here along while; he has only one more year, I believe. How can wefind him, Dr. Sandford?"

"I am ignorant, Daisy. "

"But we must find him, " I said, "for of course he will want tosee me, and I want to see him, very much. "

The doctor was silent, and I remember an odd sense I had thathe was not pleased. I cannot tell how I got it; he neither didnor said anything to make me think so; he did not even lookanywise different from usual; yet I felt it and was sure ofit, and unspeakably mystified at it. Could Preston have beendoing anything wrong? Yet the doctor would not know that, forhe was not even aware that Preston was in the Military Academytill I told him. 

"I do not know, Daisy, " he said at last; "but we can find out. I will ask Captain Southgate or somebody else. "

"Thank you, " I said. "Who are those, Dr. Sandford, thoseothers dressed in dark frock coats, with bright bars overtheir shoulders? — like that one just now going out of thegate?"

"Those are officers of the army. "

"There are a good many of them. What are they here for? Arethere many soldiers here?"

"No —" said the doctor — "I believe not. I think thesegentlemen are put here to look after the grey coats — thecadets, Daisy. The cadets are here in training, you know. "

"But that officer who just went out — who is walking over theplain now — he wore a sword, Dr. Sandford, and a red sash. They do not all wear them. What is that for?"

"What is under discussion?" said Mrs. Sandford, coming out. "How well Daisy looks this morning, don't she?"

"She has caught the military fever already, " said the doctor. "I brought her here for a sedative; but I find it is no suchmatter. "

"Sedative!" — said Mrs. Sandford; but at this instant my earswere "caught" by a burst of music on the plain. Mrs. Sandfordbroke into a fit of laughter. The doctor's hand touched myshoulder. 

"Get your hat, Daisy, " he said. "I will go with you to hearit. "

I might tell of pleasure from minute to minute of that day, and of the days following. The breath of the air, the notes ofthe wind instruments, the flicker of sunlight on the gravel, all come back to me as I write, and I taste them again. Dr. Sandford and I went down the road I have described, leadingalong the edge of the plain at its northern border; from whichthe view up over the river, between the hills, was veryglorious. Fine young trees shaded this road; on one side adeep hollow or cup in the green plain excited my curiosity;on the other, lying a little down the bank, a military work ofsome odd sort planted with guns. Then one or two littlepyramidal heaps of cannon-balls by the side of the road, marked this out as unlike all other roads I had evertraversed. At the further side of the plain we came to the rowof houses I had seen from a distance, which ran north andsouth, looking eastward over all the plain. The road whichskirted these houses was shaded with large old trees; and onthe edge of the greensward under the trees, we found a numberof iron seats placed for the convenience of spectators. Andhere, among many others, Dr. Sandford and I sat down. 

There was a long line of the grey uniforms now drawn up infront of us; at some little distance; standing still and doingnothing, that I could see. Nearer to us and facing them stooda single grey figure; I looked hard, but could not make outthat it was Preston. Nearer still, stood with arms folded oneof those who the doctor had said were army officers; Ithought, the very one I had seen leave the hotel; but all likestatues, motionless and fixed. Only the band seemed to havesome life in them. 

"What is it, Dr. Sandford?" I whispered, after a few minutesof intense enjoyment. 

"Don't know, Daisy. "

"But what are they doing?"

"I don't know, Daisy. "

I nestled down into silence again, listening, almost with adoubt of my own senses, as the notes of the instrumentsmingled with the summer breeze and filled the June sunshine. The plain looked most beautiful, edged with trees on threesides, and bounded to the east, in front of me, by a chain ofhills soft and wooded, which I afterwards found were beyondthe river. Near at hand, the order of military array, theflash of a sword, the glitter of an epaulette, the glance ofred sashes here and there, the regularity of a perfectmachine. I said nothing more to Dr. Sandford; but I gathereddrop by drop the sweetness of the time. 

The statues broke into life a few minutes later, and there wasa stir of business of some sort; but I could make out nothingof what they were doing. I took it on trust, and enjoyedeverything to the full till the show was over. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

YANKEES. 

For several days I saw nothing of Preston. He was hardlymissed. 

I found that such a parade as that which pleased me the firstmorning, came off twice daily; and other military displays, more extended and more interesting, were to be looked forevery day at irregular times. I failed not of one. So surelyas the roll of the drum or a strain of music announced thatsomething of the sort was on hand, I caught up my hat and wasready. And so was Dr. Sandford. Mrs. Sandford would often notgo; but the doctor's hat was as easily put on as mine, and asreadily; and he attended me, I used to think, as patiently asa great Newfoundland dog. As patient, and as supreme. Theevolutions of soldiers and clangour of martial music werenothing to _him;_ but he must wait upon his little mistress. Imean of course the Newfoundland dog; not Dr. Sandford. 

"Will you go for a walk, Daisy?" he said, the morning of thethird or fourth day. "There is nothing doing on the plain, Ifind. "

"A walk? Oh, yes!" I said. "Where shall we go?"

"To look for wonderful things, " he said. 

"Only don't take the child among the rattlesnakes, " said Mrs. Sandford. "_They_ are wonderful, I suppose, but not pleasant. You will get her all tanned, Grant!"

But I took these hints of danger as coolly as the doctorhimself did; and another of my West-Point delights began. 

We went beyond the limits of the post, passed out at one ofthe gates which shut it in from the common world, and forgotfor the moment drums and fifes. Up the mountain side, underthe shadow of the trees most of the time, though along a goodroad; with the wild hill at one hand rising sharp above us. Turning round that, we finally plunged down into a grand dellof the hills, leaving all roads behind and all civilisation, and having a whole mountain between us and the West-Pointplain. I suppose it might have been a region for rattlesnakes, but I never thought of them. I had never seen such a place inmy life. From the bottom of the gorge where we were, theopposite mountain side sloped up to a great height; wild, lonely, green with a wealth of wood, stupendous, as it seemedto me, in its towering expanse. At our backs, a rocky andgreen precipice rose up more steeply yet, though to a lesserelevation, topped with the grey walls of the old fort, theother face of which I had seen from our hotel. A wilderness ofnature it was; — wild and stern. I feasted on it. Dr. Sandfordwas moving about, looking for something; he helped me overrocks, and jumped me across morasses, and kept watchful guardof me; but else he let me alone; he did lot talk; and I hadquite enough without. The strong delight of the novelty, thefreedom, the delicious wild things around, the bracing air, the wonderful lofty beauty, made me as happy as I thought Icould be. I feasted on the rocks and wild verdure, the mossesand ferns and lichen, the scrub forest and tangledundergrowth, among which we plunged and scrambled; above all, on those vast leafy walls which shut in the glen, and almosttook away my breath with their towering lonely grandeur. Allthis time Dr. Sandford was as busy as a bee, in quest ofsomething. He was a great geologist and mineralogist; a loverof all natural science, but particularly of chemistry andgeology. When I stopped to look at him, I thought he must haveput his own tastes in his pocket for several days past, thathe might gratify mine. I was standing on a rock, high and dryand grey with lichen; he was poking about in some swampyground. 

"Are you tired, Daisy?" he said, looking up. 

"My feet are tired, " I said. 

"That is all of you that can be tired. Sit down where you are— I will come to you directly. "

So I sat down, and watched him, and looked off between whilesto the wonderful green walls of the glen. The summer blue wasvery clear overhead; the stillness of the place very deep;insects, birds, a flutter of leaves, and the grating of Dr. Sandford's boot upon a stone, all the sound that could beheard. 

"Why, you are warm, as well as tired, Daisy, " he said, comingup to my rock at last. 

"It is warm, " I answered. 

"Warm?" said he. "Look here, Daisy!"

"Well, what in the world is that?" I said laughing. "A littlemud or earth is all that I can see. "

"Ah, your eyes are not good for much, Daisy — except to lookat. "

"Not good for much for _that_, " I said, amused; for his eyeswere bent upon the earth in his hand. 

"I don't know" — said he, getting up on the rock beside me andsitting down. "I used to find strange things in them once. Butthis is something you will like, Daisy. "

"Is it?"

"If you like wonderful things as well as ever. "

"Oh, I do!" I said. "What is it, Dr. Sandford?"

He carefully wrapped up his treasure in a bit of paper and putit in his pocket; then he cut down a small hickory branch andbegan to fan me with it; and while he sat there fanning me heentered upon a lecture such as I had never listened to in mylife. I had studied a little geology of course, as well as alittle of everything else; but no lesson like this had come inthe course of my experience. Taking his text from the verywild glen where we were sitting and the mountain sides uponwhich I had been gazing, Dr. Sandford spread a clear page ofnature before me and interpreted it. He answered unspokenquestions; he filled great vacancies of my ignorance; intowhat had been abysms of thought he poured a whole treasury ofintelligence and brought floods of light. All so quietly, soluminously, with such a wealth of knowledge and facility ofgiving it, that it is a simple thing to say no story ofEastern magic was ever given into more charmed ears around anArabian desert fire. I listened, and he talked and fanned me. He talked like one occupied with his subject and not with me;but he met every half uttered doubt or question, and before hehad done he satisfied it fully. I had always liked Dr. Sandford; I had never liked him so much. I had never, sincethe old childish times, had such a free talk with him. Andnow, he did not talk to me as a child or a very young girl, except in bending himself to my ignorance; but as one wholoves knowledge likes to give it to others, so he gave it tome. Only I do not remember seeing him like to give it in suchmanner to anybody else. I think the novelty added to the zestwhen I thought about: it; at the moment I had no time for sidethoughts. At the moment my ears could but receive the pearlsand diamonds of knowledge which came from the speaker's lips, set in silver of the simplest clear English. I notice that thepeople who have the most thorough grasp of a subject make everleast difficulty of words about it. 

The sun was high and hot when we returned, but I cared nothingfor that. I was more than ever sure that West Point wasfairyland. The old spring of childish glee seemed to have comeback to my nerves. 

"Dinner is just ready, " said Mrs. Sandford, meeting us in thehall. "Why, where _have_ you been? And look at the colour ofDaisy's face! Oh, Grant, what have you done with her?"

"Very good colour —" said the doctor, peering under my hat. 

"She's all flushed and sunburnt, and overheated. "

"Daisy is never anything but cool;" he said, "unless when shegets hold of a principle, and somebody else gets hold of theother end. We'll look at these things after dinner, Daisy. "

"Principles?" half exclaimed Mrs. Sandford, with so dismayedan expression that the doctor and I both laughed. 

"Not exactly, " — said the doctor, putting his hand in hispocket. "Look here. "

"I see nothing but a little dirt. "

"You shall see something else by and by — if you will. "

"You have never brought your microscope here, Grant? Where inthe world will you set it up?"

"In your room — after dinner — if you permit. "

Mrs. Sandford permitted; and though she did not care muchabout the investigations that followed, the doctor and I did. As delightful as the morning had been, the long afternoonstretched its bright hours along; till Mrs. Sandford insistedI must be dressed, and pushed the microscope into a corner andordered the doctor away. 

That was the beginning of the pleasantest course of lessons Iever had in my life. From that time Dr. Sandford and I spent alarge part of every day in the hills; and often another largepart over the microscope. No palace and gardens in the Arabiannights were ever more enchanting, than the glories of naturethrough which he led me; nor half so wonderful. "A littledirt, " as it seemed to ordinary eyes, was the hidden entranceway ofttimes to halls of knowledge more magnificent and morerich than my fancy had ever dreamed of. 

Meanwhile, Mrs. Sandford found a great many officers to talkto. 

It was not till the evening of the next day following my firstwalk into the mountains, that I saw Preston. — It was paradetime; and I was sitting as usual on one of the iron setteeswhich are placed for the convenience of spectators. I wasalmost always there at parade and guard-mounting. The picturehad a continual fascination for me, whether under the morningsun, or the evening sunset; and the music was charming. Thistime I was alone, Dr. And Mrs. Sandford being engaged inconversation with friends at a little distance. Following withmy ear the variations of the air the band were playing, mymind was at the same time dwelling on the riches it had justgained in the natural history researches of the day, and alsotaking in half consciously the colours of the hills and thelight that spread over the plain; musing, in short, in a kindof dream of delight; when a grey figure came between me and mypicture. Finding that it did not move, I raised my eyes. 

"The same Daisy as ever!" said Preston, his eyes all alightwith fun and pleasure. "The same as ever! And how came youhere? and when did you come? and how did you come?"

"We have been here ever since Friday. Why haven't you been tosee me? Dr. Sandford sent word to you. "

"Dr. Sandford!" said Preston, taking the place by my side. "How did you come here, Daisy?"

"I came by the boat, last Friday. How should I come?"

"Who are you with?"

"Dr. Sandford — and Mrs. Sandford. "

"_Mrs_. Sandford, and Dr. Sandford, " said Preston, pointedly. "You are not with the doctor, I suppose. "

"Why, yes, I am, " I answered. "He is my guardian — don't youknow, Preston? He brought me. How tall you have grown!"

"A parcel of Yankees, " said Preston. "Poor little Daisy. "

"What do you mean by 'Yankees'?" I said. "You do not mean justpeople at the North, for you speak as if it was somethingbad. "

"It is. So I do, " said Preston. "They are a mean set — fit fornothing but to eat codfish and scrape. I wish you had nothingto do with Yankees. "

I thought how all the South lived upon stolen earnings. It wasa disagreeable turn to my meditations for a moment. 

"Where have you hid yourself since you have come here?"Preston went on. "I have been to the hotel time and again tofind you. "

"Have you!" I said. "Oh, I suppose I was out walking. "

"With whom were you walking?"

"I don't know anybody here, but those I came with. ButPreston, why are you not over yonder with the others?"

I was looking at the long grey line formed in front of us onthe plain. 

"I got leave of absence, to come and see you, Daisy. And _you_have grown, and improved. You're wonderfully improved. Are youthe very same Daisy? and what are you going to do here?"

"Oh, I'm enjoying myself. Now, Preston, why does that manstand so?"

"What man?"

"That officer — here in front, standing all alone, with thesash and sword. Why does he stand so?"

"Hush. That is Captain Percival. He is the officer in charge. "

"What is that?"

"Oh, he looks after the parade, and things. "

"But why does he stand so, Preston?"

"Stand how?" said Preston, unsympathisingly. "That is goodstanding. "

"Why, with his shoulders up to his ears, " I said; "and hisarms lifted up as if he was trying to put his elbows upon ahigh shelf. It is _very_ awkward. "

"They all stand so, " said Preston. "That's right enough. "

"It is ungraceful. "

"It is military. "

"Must one be ungraceful in order to be military?"

"_He_ isn't ungraceful. That is Percival — of South Carolina. "

"The officer yesterday stood a great deal better, " I went on. 

"Yesterday? That was Blunt. He's a Yankee. "

"Well, what then, Preston?" I said, laughing. 

"I despise them!"

"Aren't there Yankees among the cadets?"

"Of course; but they are no count — only here and therethere's one of good family. Don't you have anything to do withthem, Daisy — mind; — not with one of them, unless I tell youwho he is. "

"With one of whom? what are you speaking of?"

"The cadets. "

"Why, I have nothing to do with them, " I said. "How should I?"

Preston looked at me curiously. 

"Nor at the hotel, neither, Daisy — more than you can help. Have nothing to say to the Yankees. "

I thought Preston had taken a strange fancy. I was silent. 

"It is not fitting, " he went on. "We are going to change allthat. I want to have nothing to do with Yankees. "

"What are you going to change?" I asked. "I don't see how youcan help having to do with them. They are among the cadets, and they are among the officers. "

"We have our own set, " said Preston. "I have nothing to dowith them in the corps. "

"Now, Preston, look; what are they about? All the red sashesare getting together. "

"Parade is dismissed. They are coming up to salute the officerin charge. "

"It is so pretty!" I said, as the music burst out again, andthe measured steps of the advancing line of "red sashes"marked it. "And now Captain Percival will unbend his stiffelbows. Why could not all that be done easily, Preston?"

"Nonsense, Daisy! — it is military. "

"Is it? But Mr. Blunt did it a great deal better. Now they aregoing. — Must you go?"

"Yes. What are you going to do to-morrow?"

"I don't know — I suppose, we shall go into the woods again. "

"When the examination is over, I can attend to you. I haven'tmuch time just now. But there is really nothing to be donehere, since one can't get on horseback out of the hours. "

"I don't want anything better than I can get on my own feet, "I said joyously. "I find plenty to do. "

"Look here, Daisy, " said Preston — "don't you turn into amasculine, muscular woman, that can walk her twenty miles andwear hob-nailed shoes — like the Yankees you are among. Don'tforget that you are the daughter of a Southern gentleman —"

He touched his cap hastily and turned away — walking withthose measured steps towards the barracks; whither now all thecompanies of grey figures were in full retreat. I stoodwondering, and then slowly returned with my friends to thehotel; much puzzled to account for Preston's discomposure andstrange injunctions. The sunlight had left the tops of thehills; the river slept in the gathering grey shadows, soft, tranquil, reposeful. Before I got to the hotel, I had quitemade up my mind that my cousin's eccentricities were of noconsequence. 

They recurred to me, however, and were as puzzling as ever. Ihad no key at the time. 

The next afternoon was given to a very lively show: the lightartillery drill before the Board of Visitors. We sat out underthe trees to behold it; and I found out now the meaning of thebroad strip of plain between the hotel and the library, whichwas brown and dusty in the midst of the universal green. Overthis strip, round and round, back and forth and across, thelight artillery wagons rushed, as if to show what they coulddo in time of need. It was a beautiful sight, exciting andstirring; with the beat of horses' hoofs, the clatter ofharness, the rumble of wheels tearing along over the ground, the flash of a sabre now and then, the ringing words ofcommand, and the soft shrill echoing bugle which repeatedthem. I only wanted to understand it all; and in the evening Iplied Preston with questions. He explained things to mepatiently. 

"I understand, " I said, at last, — "I understand what it woulddo in war time. But we are not at war, Preston. "

"No. "

"Nor in the least likely to be. "

"We can't tell. It is good to be ready. "

"But what do you mean?" I remember saying. "You speak as if wemight be at war. Who is there for us to fight?"

"Anybody that wants putting in order, " said Preston. "TheIndians. "

"O Preston, Preston!" I exclaimed. "The Indians! when we havebeen doing them wrong ever since the white men came here; andyou want to do them more wrong!"

"I want to hinder them from doing us wrong. But I don't careabout the Indians, little Daisy. I would just as lief fightthe Yankees. "

"Preston, I think you are very wrong. "

"You think all the world is, " he said. 

We were silent, and I felt very dissatisfied. What was allthis military schooling a preparation for, perhaps? How couldwe know. Maybe these heads and hands, so gay to-day in theirmock fight, would be grimly and sadly at work by and by, inreal encounter with some real enemy. 

"Do you see that man, Daisy?" whispered Preston suddenly in myear. "That one talking to a lady in blue —"

We were on the parade ground, among a crowd of spectators, forthe hotels were very full, and the Point very gay now. I saidI saw him. 

"That is a great man. "

"Is he?" I said, looking and wondering if a great man couldhide behind such a physiognomy. 

"Other people think so, I can tell you, " said Preston. "Nobodyknows what that man can do. That is Davis of Mississippi. "

The name meant nothing to me then. I looked at him as I wouldhave looked at another man. And I did not like what I saw. Something of sinister, nothing noble, about the countenance;power there might be — Preston said there was — but the powerof the fox and the vulture it seemed to me; sly, crafty, false, selfish, cruel. 

"If nobody knows what he can do, how is it so certain that heis a great man?" I asked. Preston did not answer. "I hopethere are not many great men that look like him, " I went on. 

"Nonsense, Daisy!" said Preston, in an energetic whisper. "That is Davis of Mississippi. "

"Well?" said I. "That is no more to me than if he were Jonesof New York. "

"Daisy!" said Preston. "If you are not a true Southerner, Iwill never love you any more. "

"What do you mean by a true Southerner? I do not understand. "

"Yes, you do. A true Southerner is always a Southerner, andtakes the part of a Southerner in every dispute, — right orwrong. "

"What makes you dislike Northerners so much?"

"Cowardly Yankees!" was Preston's reply. 

"You must have an uncomfortable time among them, if you feelso, " I said. 

"There are plenty of the true sort here. I wish you were inParis, Daisy; or somewhere else. "

"Why?" I said, laughing. 

"Safe with my mother, or your mother. Yon want teaching. Youare too latitudinarian. And you are too thick with theYankees, by half. "

I let this opinion alone, as I could do nothing with it; andour conversation broke off with Preston in a very bad humour. 

The next day, when we were deep in the woods, I asked Dr. Sandford if he knew Mr. Davis of Mississippi. He answered yes, rather drily. I knew the doctor knew everybody. 

I asked, why Preston called him a great man. 

"Does he call him a great man?" Dr. Sandford asked. 

"Do you?"

"No, not I, Daisy. But that may not hinder the fact. And I maynot have Mr. Gary's means of judging. "

"What means can he have?" I said. 

"Daisy, " said Dr. Sandford suddenly, when I had forgotten thequestion in plunging through a thicket of brushwood, — "if theNorth and the South should split on the subject of slavery, what side would you take?"

"What do you mean by a 'split'?" I asked slowly, in mywonderment. 

"The States are not precisely like a perfect crystal, Daisy;and there is an incipient cleavage somewhere about Mason andDixon's line. "

"I do not know what line that is. "

"No. Well, for practical purposes, you may take it as the linebetween the slave States and the free. "

"But how could there be a split?" I asked. 

"There is a wedge applied even now, Daisy — the questionwhether the new States forming out of our Western territories, shall have slavery in them or shall be free States. "

I was silent upon this; and we walked and climbed for a littledistance, without my remembering our geological ormineralogical, or any other objects in view. 

"The North say, " Dr. Sandford then went on, "that these Statesshall be free. The South — or some men at the South — threatenthat if they be, the South will split from the North, havenothing to do with us, and set up for themselves. "

"Who is to decide it?" I asked. 

"The people. This fall the election will be held for the nextPresident; and that will show. If a slavery man is chosen, weshall know that a majority of the nation go with the Southernview. "

"If not?" —

"Then there may be trouble, Daisy. "

"What sort of trouble?" I asked hastily. 

Dr. Sandford hesitated, and then said, "I do not know how farpeople will go. "

I mused, and forgot the sweet flutter of green leaves, andsmell of moss and of hemlock, and golden bursts of sunshine, amongst which we were pursuing our way. Preston's strange heatand sudden Southernism, Mr. Davis's wile and greatness, acoming disputed election, quarrels between the people where Iwas born and the people where I was brought up, divisions andjealousies, floated before my mind in unlovely and confusedvisions. Then, remembering my father and my mother and Gary McFarlane, and others whom I had known, I spoke again. 

"Whatever the Southern people say, they will do, Dr. Sandford. "

"_Provided_ —" said the doctor. 

"What, if you please?"

"Provided the North will let them, Daisy. "

I thought privately they could not hinder. I thought theycould not. Would there be a trial? Could it be possible therewould be a trial?

"But you have not answered my question, " said the doctor. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

"What question?"

"As to the side you would take. "

"I do not want any more slave States, Dr. Sandford. "

"I thought so. Then you would be with the North. "

"But people will never be so foolish as to come to what youcall a 'split, ' Dr. Sandford. "

"Upon my word, Daisy, as the world is at present, the folly ofa thing is no presumptive argument against its coming intoexistence. Look — here we shall get a nice piece of quartz foryour collection. "

I came back to the primary rocks, and for the presentdismissed the subject of the confusions existing on thesurface of the earth; hoping sincerely that there would be nooccasion for calling it up again. 

For some time I saw very little of Preston. He was busy, hesaid. My days flowed on like the summer sunshine, and were asbeneficent. I was gaining strength every day. Dr. Sandforddecreed that I must stay as long as possible. Then Mr. Sandford came, the doctor's brother, and added his socialweight to ours party. Hardly needed, for I perceived that wewere very much sought after; at least my companions. Thedoctor in especial was a very great favourite, both with menand women; who I notice are most ready to bestow their favourwhere it is least cared for. I don't know but Dr. Sandfordcared for it; only he did not show that he did. The claims ofsociety however began to interfere with my geological andother lessons. 

A few days after his brother's arrival, the doctor had beencarried off by a party of gentlemen who were going back in themountains to fish in the White Lakes. I was left to the usualsummer delights of the place; which indeed to me werenumberless; began with the echo of the morning gun, (orbefore) and ended not till the three taps of the drum atnight. The cadets had gone into camp by this time; and thetaps of the drum were quite near, as well as the shrill sweetnotes of the fife at reveille and tattoo. The camp itself wasa great pleasure to me; and at guard-mounting or parade Inever failed to be in my place. Only to sit in the rear of theguard tents and watch the morning sunlight on the turf, and onthe hills over the river, and shining down the camp alleys, was a rich satisfaction. Mrs. Sandford laughed at me; herhusband said it was "natural, " though I am sure he did notunderstand it a bit; but the end of all was, that I was leftvery often to go alone down the little path to the guard-tentsamong the crowd that twice a day poured out there from ourhotel and met the crowd that came up from Cozzens's hotelbelow. 

So it was, one morning that I remember. Guard-mounting wasalways late enough to let one feel the sun's power; and it wasa sultry morning, this. We were in July now, and misty, vapourous clouds moved slowly over the blue sky, seeming tointensify the heat of the unclouded intervals. But wonderfulsweet it was; and I under the shade of my flat hat, with alittle help from the foliage of a young tree, did not mind itat all. Every bit of the scene was a pleasure to me; I missednone of the details. The files of cadets in the camp alleysgetting their arms inspected; the white tents themselves, with curtains tightly done up; here and there an officercrossing the camp ground and stopping to speak to an orderly;then the coming up of the band, the music, the marching out ofthe companies; the leisurely walk from the camp of the officerin charge, drawing on his white gloves; his stand and hisattitude; and then the pretty business of the parade. Allunder that July sky; all under that flicker of cloud and sun, and the soft, sweet breath of air that sometimes stole to usto relieve the hot stillness; and all with that setting andbackground of cedars and young foliage and bordering hillsover which the cloud shadows swept. Then came the mountingguard business. By and by Preston came to me. 

"Awfully hot, Daisy!" he said. 

"Yes, you are out in it, " I said, compassionately. 

"What are _you_ out in it for?"

"Why, I like it, " I said. "How come you to be one of the redsashes this morning?"

"I have been an officer of the guard this last twenty-fourhours. "

"Since yesterday morning?"

"Yes. "

"Do you like it, Preston?"

"_Like_ it!" he said. "Like guard duty! Why, Daisy, when afellow has left his shoe-string untied, or something or otherlike that, they put him on extra guard duty to punish him. "

"Did you ever do so, Preston?"

"Did I ever do so?" he repeated savagely. "Do you think I havebeen raised like a Yankee, to take care of my shoes? ThatBlunt is just fit to stand behind a counter and measureinches!"

I was very near laughing, but Preston's mood would not bearthat. 

"I don't think it is beneath a gentleman to keep his shoe-strings tied, " I said. 

"A gentleman can't always think of everything!" was Preston'sanswer. 

"Then you are glad you have only one year more at theAcademy?"

"Of course I am glad! I'll never be under Yankee rule again;not if I know it. "

"Suppose they elect a Yankee President?" I said; but Preston'slook was so eager and so sharp at me that I was glad to covermy rash suggestion under another subject as soon as possible. 

"Are you going to be busy this afternoon?" I asked him. 

"No, I reckon not. "

"Suppose you come and go up to the Fort with me?"

"What fort?"

"Fort Putnam. I have never been there yet. "

"There is nothing on earth to go there for, " said Prestonshrugging his shoulders. "Just broil yourself in the sun, andget nothing for it. It's an awful pull up hill; rough, and allthat; and nothing at the top but an old stone wall. "

"But there is the view!" I said. 

"You have got it down here — just as good. Just climb up thehotel stairs fifty times without stopping, and then look outof the thing at top — and you have been to Fort Putnam. "

"Why, I want to go to the top of Crow's Nest, " I said. 

"Yes! I was ass enough to try that once, " said Preston, "whenI was just come, and thought I must do everything; but ifanybody wants to insult me, let him just ask me to do itagain!"

Preston's mood was unmanageable. I had never seen him so inold times. I thought West Point did not agree with him. Ilistened to the bland, just then playing a fine air, andlamented privately to myself that brass instruments should beso much more harmonious than human tempers. Then the musicceased and the military movements drew my attention again. 

"They all walk like you, " I observed carelessly, as I noticeda measured step crossing the camp ground. 

"Do they?" said Preston sneeringly. "I flatter myself I do notwalk like all of them. If you notice more closely, Daisy, youwill see a difference. You can tell a Southerner, on foot oron horseback, from the sons of tailors and farmers — strangeif you couldn't!"

"I think you are unjust, Preston, " I said. "You should nottalk so. Major Blunt walks as well and stands much better thanany officer I have seen; and he is from Vermont; and CaptainPercival is from South Carolina, and Mr. Hunter is fromVirginia, and Colonel Forsyth is from Georgia. They are all ofthem less graceful than Major Blunt. "

"What do you think of Dr. Sandford?" said Preston in the sametone; but before I could answer I heard a call of "Gary! —Gary!" I looked round. In the midst of the ranks of spectatorsto our left stood a cadet, my friend of the omnibus. He waslooking impatiently our way, and again exclaimed in a sort ofsuppressed shout — "Gary!" Preston heard him that time;started from my side, and placed himself immediately besidehis summoner, in front of the guard tents and spectators. Thetwo were in line, two or three yards separating them, and bothfacing towards a party drawn up at some little distance on thecamp ground, which I believe were the relieving guard. I movedmy own position to a place immediately behind them, where Ispied an empty camp stool, and watched the two with curiouseyes. Uniforms, and military conformities generally, are queerthings, if you take the right point of view. Here were thesetwo, a pair, and not a pair. The grey coat, and the whitepantaloons, (they had all gone into white now) the littlesoldier's cap, were a counterpart in each of the other; thetwo even stood on the ground as if they were bound to bepatterns each of the other; and when my acquaintance raisedhis arms and folded them after the approved fashion, to mygreat amusement Preston's arms copied the movement; and theystood like two brother statues, still from their heels totheir cap rims. Except when once the right arm of my unknownfriend was unbent to give a military sign, in answer to somedemand or address from somebody, in front of him, which I didnot hear. Yet as I watched, I began to discern how individualmy two statues really were. I could not see faces, of course. But the grey coat on the one looked as if its shoulders hadbeen more carefully brushed than had been the case with theother; the spotless pantaloons, which seemed to be just out ofthe laundress's basket, as I suppose they were, sat with atrimmer perfection in one case than in the other. Preston'spocket gaped, and was, I noticed, a little bit ripped; andwhen my eye got down to the shoes, his had not the black glossof his companion's. With that one there was not, I think, athread awry. And then, there was a certain relaxation in thelines of Preston's figure impossible to describe, stiff andmotionless though he was; something which prepared one for alax and careless movement when he moved. Perhaps this wasfancy and only arose from my knowledge of the fact; but withthe other no such fancy was possible. Still, but alert;motionless, but full of vigour; I expected what came; firm, quick, and easy action, as soon as he should cease to be astatue. 

So much for a back view of character; which engrossed me tillmy two statues went away. 

A little while after Preston came to me. "Are you here yet?"he said. 

"Don't you like to have me here?"

"It's hot. And it is very stupid for you, I should think. Where is Mrs. Sandford?"

"She thinks as you do, that it is stupid. "

"You ought not to be here without some one. "

"Why not? What cadet was that who called you, Preston?"

"Called me? Nobody called me. "

"Yes he did. When you were sitting with me. Who was it?"

"I don't know!" said Preston. "Goodbye. I shall be busy for aday or two. "

"Then you cannot go to Fort Putnam this afternoon?"

"Fort Putnam! I should think not. It is going to be broilingto-day. "

And he left me. Things had gone wrong with Preston lately, Ithought. But before I had made up my mind to move, two othercadets came before me. One of them Mrs. Sandford knew, and Islightly. 

"Miss Randolph, my friend Mr. Thorold has begged me tointroduce him to you. "

It was _my_ friend of the omnibus. I think we liked each otherat this very first moment. I looked up at a manly, well-featured face, just then lighted with a little smile ofdeference and recognition; but permanently lighted with thebrightest and quickest hazel eyes that I ever saw. Somethingabout the face pleased me on the instant. I believe it was thefrankness. 

"I have to apologise for my rudeness, in calling a gentlemanaway from you, Miss Randolph, in a very unceremonious manner, a little while ago. "

"Oh, I know, " I said. "I saw what you did with him. "

"Did I do anything with him?"

"Only called him to his duty, I suppose. "

"Precisely. He was very excusable for forgetting it; but itmight have been inconvenient. "

"Do you think it is ever excusable to forget duty?" I asked;and I was rewarded with a swift flash of fun in the hazeleyes, that came and went like forked lightning. 

"It is not easily pardoned here, " he answered. 

"People don't make allowances?"

"Not officers, " he said, with a smile. "Soldiers lose thecharacter of men, when they are on duty; they are onlyreckoned machines. "

"You do not mean that exactly, I suppose. "

"Indeed I do!" he said, with another slighter corruscation. "Intelligent machines, of course, but with no more latitude ofaction. — You would not like that life?"

"I should think you would not. "

"Ah, but we hope to rise to the management of the machines, some day. "

I thought I saw in his face that he did. I remarked that Ishould not think the management of mere machines could be verypleasant. 

"Why not?"

"It is degrading to the machines, — and so, I should think, itwould not be very elevating to those who make them machines. "

"That is exactly the use they propose them to serve, though, "he said, looking amused; "the elevation of themselves. "

"I know" — I said, thinking that the end was ignoble too. 

"You do not approve it?" he said. 

I felt those brilliant eyes dancing all over me, and, Ifancied, over my thoughts too. I felt a little shy of going onto explain myself to one whom I knew so little. He turned theconversation, by asking me if I had seen all the lions yet?

I said, I supposed not. 

"Have you been up to the old fort?"

"I want to go there, " I said; "but somebody told me to-day, there was nothing worth going for. "

"Has his report taken away your desire to make the trial?"

"No, for I do not believe he is right. "

"Might I offer myself as a guide? I can be disengaged thisafternoon; and I know all the ways to the fort. It would giveme great pleasure. "

I felt it would give me great pleasure too, and so I told him. We arranged for the hour, and Mr. Thorold hastened away. 

CHAPTER XV. 

FORT PUTNAM. 

"I am going to Fort Putnam this afternoon, with Mr. Thorold, "— I announced to Mrs. Sandford, after dinner. 

"Who is Mr. Thorold?"

"One of the cadets. "

"One of the cadets! So it has got hold of you at last, Daisy!"

"What, Mrs. Sandford?"

"But Fort Putnam? My dearest child, it is very hot!"

"Oh, yes, ma'am — I don't mind it. "

"Well, I am very glad, if you don't, " said Mrs. Sandford. "AndI am very glad Grant has taken himself off to the White Lakes. He gave nobody else any chance. It will do you a world ofgood. "

"What will?" I asked, wondering. 

"Amusement, dear, — amusement. Something a great deal betterthan Grant's 'elegies and 'ologies. Now this would never havehappened if he had been at home. "

I did not understand her, but then I knew she did notunderstand the pursuits she so slighted; and it was beyond mypowers to enlighten her. So I did not try. 

Mr. Thorold was punctual, and so was I; and we set forth atfive o'clock, I at least as happy as it was possible to be. Warm — it was, yet; we went slowly down the road, in shadowand sunshine; tasting the pleasantness, it seems to me, ofevery tree, and feeling the sweetness of each breath; in thatslight exhilaration of spirits which loses nothing and forgetsnothing. At least I have a good memory for such times. Therewas a little excitement, no doubt, about going this walk witha cadet and a stranger, which helped the whole effect. 

I made use of my opportunity to gain a great deal ofinformation which Dr. Sandford could not give. I wanted tounderstand the meaning and the use of many things I saw aboutthe Point. Batteries and fortifications were a mysteriousjumble to me; shells were a horrible novelty; the whole artand trade of a soldier, something well worth studying, butdifficult to see as a reasonable whole. The adaptation ofparts to an end, I could perceive; the end itself puzzled me. 

"Yet there has always been fighting, " — said my companion. 

"Yes, " — I assented. 

"Then we must be ready for it. "

But I was not prepared in this case with my answer. 

"Suppose we were unjustly attacked?" — said Mr. Thorold; and Ithought every one of the gilt buttons on his grey jacketrepelled the idea of a peaceable composition. 

"I don't know, " — said I, pondering. "Why should the rule bedifferent for nations and for individual people?"

"What is your rule for individual people?" he asked, laughing, and looking down at me, as he held the gate open. I can seethe look and the attitude now. 

"It is not my rule, " I said. 

"_The_ rule, then. What should a man do, Miss Randolph, when heis unjustly attacked?"

I felt I was on very untenable ground, talking to a soldier. If I was right, what was the use of his grey coat, or of WestPoint itself. We were mounting the little steep pitch beyondthe gate, where the road turns; and I waited till I got uponlevel footing. Then catching a bright inquisitive glance ofthe hazel eyes, I summoned up my courage and spoke. 

"I have no rule but the Bible, Mr. Thorold. "

"The Bible! What does the Bible say? It tells of a great dealof fighting. "

"Of bad men. "

"Yes, but the Jews were commanded to fight, were they not?"

"To punish bad men. But we have got another rule since that. "

"What is it?"

" 'If any man smite thee on the one cheek, turn to him theother also. ' "

"Is it possible you think the Bible means that literally?" hesaid. 

"Do you think it would say what it did not mean?"

"But try it by the moral effect; what sort of a fellow would aman be who did so, Miss Randolph?"

"I think he would be fine!" — I said; for I was thinking ofOne who, "when He was reviled, reviled not again; when Hesuffered, He threatened not. " But I could not tell all mythought to Mr. Thorold; no more than I could to Dr. Sandford. 

"And would you have him stand by and see another injured?" mycompanion asked. "Wouldn't you have him fight in such a case?"

I had not considered that question. I was silent. 

"Suppose he sees wrong done; wrong that a few well plantedblows — or shots, if you like; shots are but well directedblows, " he said, smiling; — "wrong that a few well plantedblows would prevent. — Suppose somebody were to attack younow, for instance; ought I not to fight for it?"

"I should like to have you, " I said. 

"Come!" he said, laughing, and stretching out his hand toshake mine, — "I see you will let me keep my profession, afterall. And why should not a nation do, on a larger scale, what aman may do?"

"Why it may, " I said. 

"Then — West Point is justified. "

"But very few wars in the world are conducted on thatprinciple, " I said. 

"Very few. In fact I do not at this moment recollect theinstances. But you would allow a man, or a nation to fight inself-defence, — would not you?"

I pondered the matter. "I suppose — he has a right to protecthis life, " I said. "But 'if a man smite thee on the cheek, ' —_that_ does not touch life. "

"What would you think of a man, " said my companion gravely, —"who should suffer some one to give him such a blow, withouttaking any notice of it?"

"If he did it because he was _afraid_, " I said, "of course Ishouldn't like that. But if he did it to obey the Bible — Ishould think it was noble. The Bible says 'it is glory, topass by a transgression. ' "

"But suppose he was afraid of being thought afraid?"

I looked at my companion, and felt instinctively sure thatneither this nor my first supposed case would ever be true ofhim. Further, I felt sure that no one would ever be hardyenough to give the supposed occasion. I can hardly tell how Iknew; it was by some of those indescribable natural signs. Wewere slowly mounting the hill; and in every powerful, lithemovement, in the very set of his shoulders and head, and aswell in the sparkle of the bright eye which looked round atme, I read the tokens of a spirit which I thought neither hadknown nor ever would know the sort of indignity he haddescribed. He was talking for talk's sake. But while I looked, the sparkle of the eye grew very merry. 

"You are judging me, Miss Randolph, " he said. "Judge megently. "

"No indeed, " I said. "I was thinking that you are not speakingfrom experience. "

"I am not better than you think me, " he said, laughing andshaking his head. And the laugh was so full of merriment thatit infected me. I saw he was very much amused; I thought hewas a little interested too. "You know, " he went on, "myeducation has been unfavourable. I have fought for a smallermatter than that you judge insufficient. "

"Did it do any good?" I asked. 

He laughed again; picked up a stone and threw it into themidst of a thick tree to dislodge something — I did not seewhat; and finally looked round at me with the most genialamusement and good nature mixed. I knew he was interested now. 

"I don't know how much good it did to anybody but myself, " hesaid. "It comforted me — at the time. Afterwards, I rememberthinking it was hardly worth while. But if a fellow shouldsuffer an insult, as you say, and not take any notice of it, what do you suppose would become of him in the corps — or inthe world either?"

"He would be a noble man, all the same, " I said. 

"But people like to be well thought of by their friends andsociety. "

"I know that. "

"He would be sent to Coventry unmitigatedly. "

"I cannot help it, Mr. Thorold, " I said. "If anybody doeswrong because he is afraid of the consequences of doing right, he is another sort of a coward — that is all!"

Mr. Thorold laughed, and catching my hand as we came to a turnin the road where the woods fell away right and left, broughtme quick round the angle, without letting me go to the edge ofthe bank to get the view. 

"You must not look till you get to the top, " he said. 

"What an odd road!" I remarked. "It just goes by zigzags. "

"The only way to get up at all, without travelling round thehill. That is, for horses. "

It was steep enough for foot wayfarers, but the road wasexceeding comfortable that day. We were under the shade oftrees all the way; and talk never lagged. Mr. Thorold wasinfinitely pleasant to me; as well as unlike any one of all myformer acquaintances. There was a wealth of life in him, thatdelighted my quieter nature; an amount of animal spirits thatwere just a constant little impetus to me; and from the firstI got an impression of strength, such as weakness loves tohave near. Bodily strength he had also, in perfection; but Imean now the firm self-reliant nature, quick at resources, ready to act as to decide, and full of the power that has itsspring and magazine in character alone. So, enjoying eachother, we went slowly up the zigzags of the hill, very steepin places, and very rough to the foot; but the last pitch wassmoother, and there the grey old bulwarks of the ruinedfortification faced down upon us, just above. 

"Now, " said Mr. Thorold, coming on the outside of me toprevent it, — "don't look!" — and we turned into the entranceof the fort, between two outstanding walls. Going through, wehurried up a little steep rise, till we got to a smooth spreadof grass, sloping gently to a level with the top of the wall. Where this slope reached its highest, where the parapet (as MrThorold called it) commanded a clear view from the easternside, there he brought me, and then permitted me to standstill. I do not know how long I stood quite still withoutspeaking. 

"Will you sit down?" said my companion; and I found he hadspread a pocket-handkerchief on the bank for me. The turf inthat place was about eighteen inches higher than the top ofthe wall, making a very convenient seat. I thought of QueenElizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh; but I also thought the mostqueenly thing I could do was to take the offered civility, andI sat down. My eyes were bewildered with the beauty; theyturned from one point to another with a sort of wondering, insatiable enjoyment. There, beneath our feet, lay the littlelevel green- plain; its roads and trees all before us as in amap, with the lines of building enclosing it on the south andwest. A cart and oxen were slowly travelling across the roadbetween the library and the hotel, looking like minute antsdragging a crumb along. Beyond them was the stretch of brownearth, where the cavalry exercises forbade a blade of grass toshow itself. And beyond that, at the further edge of theplain, the little white camp; its straight rows of tents andthe alleys between all clearly marked out. Round all this theriver curved, making a promontory of it; a promontory withfringed banks, and levelled at top, as it seemed, just toreceive the Military Academy. On the other side the river, along sweep of gentle hills, coloured in the fair colours ofthe evening; curving towards the north-east into a beautifulcircle of soft outlines back of the mountain which rose steepand bold at the water's edge. This mountain was the first ofthe group I had seen from my hotel window. Houses and churchesnestled in the curve of tableland, under the mountain. Duenorth, the parapet of the fort rising sharply at its northernangle a few feet from where I sat, hindered my full view. Southerly, the hills swept down, marking the course of theriver for many a mile; but again from where I sat I could notsee how far. With a sigh of pleasure my eye came back to theplain and the white tents. 

"Is guard duty very disagreeable?" I asked, thinking ofPreston's talk in the morning. 

"Why, at mid-day, with the thermometer at 90, it is notexactly the amusement one would choose, " said Mr. Thorold. "Ilike it at night well enough. "

"What do you do?"

"Nothing, but walk up and down, two hours at a time. "

"What is the use of it?"

"To keep order, and make sure that nothing goes in or out thathas no business to do it. "

"And they have to carry their guns, " I said. 

"Their muskets — yes. "

"Are they very heavy?"

"No. Pretty heavy for an arm that is new to it. I neverremember I have mine. "

"Mr. Caxton said, " (Mr. Caxton was the cadet who hadintroduced Mr. Thorold to me) — "Mr. Caxton told Mrs. Sandfordthat the new cadets are sometimes so exhausted with their tourof duty that they have to be carried off the ground. "

Mr. Thorold looked at me, a very keen bright look of his hazeleyes; but he said nothing. 

"And he said, that the little white boxes at the corners ofthe camp, were monuments to those who had fallen on duty. "

"Just four of them!" — said Mr. Thorold, settling his cap downover his brows; but then he laughed, and I laughed; how welaughed!

"Don't you want to see the rest of it?" he said, jumping up. Idid not know there was anything more to see. Now, however, hebrought me up to the high angle of the parapet that hadintercepted my view to the north. I could hardly get away fromthere. The full magnificence of the mountains in that quarter;the river's course between them, the blue hills of the distantShawangunk range, and the woody chasm immediately at my feet, stretching from the height where I stood over to the crest ofthe Crow's nest; it took away my breath. I sat down again, while Mr. Thorold pointed out localities; and did not move, till I had to make way for another party of visitors who werecoming. Then Mr. Thorold took me all round the edge of thefort. At the south, we looked down into the woody gorge whereDr. Sandford and I had hunted for fossil infusoria. From herethe long channel of the river running southerly, with itsbordering ridge of hills, and above all, the wealth and gloryof the woodland and the upheaved rocks before me, were almostas good as the eastern view. The path along the parapet inplaces was narrow and dizzy; but I did not care for it, and mycompanion went like a chamois. He helped me over the hardplaces; hand in hand we ran down the steep slopes; and as wewent we got very well acquainted. At last we climbed up thecrumbling masonry to a small platform which commanded the viewboth east and south. 

"What is this place for?" I asked. 

"To plant guns on. "

"They could not reach to the river, could they?"

"Much further — the guns of now-a-days. "

"And the old vaults under here — I saw them as we passed by, —were they prisons, places for prisoners?"

"A sort of involuntary prisoners, " said Mr. Thorold. "They areonly casemates; prisons for our own men occasionally, whenshot and shell might be flying too thick; hiding places, inshort. Would you like to go to the laboratory some day, wherewe learn to make different kinds of shot, and fire-works andsuch things?"

"Oh, very much! But, Mr. Thorold, Mr. Caxton told me thatAndrι was confined in one of these places under here; he saidhis name was written upon the stones in a dark corner, andthat I would find it. "

Mr. Thorold looked at me, with an expression of such containedfun that I understood it at once; and we bad another laughtogether. I began to wonder whether every one that wore auniform of grey and white with gilt buttons made it hisamusement to play upon the ignorance of uninitiated people;but on reflection I could not think Mr. Thorold had done so. Iresolved to be careful how I trusted the rest of the cadets, even Preston; and indeed, my companion remarked that I hadbetter not believe anything I heard without asking him. We randown and inspected the casemates; and then took our seatsagain for one last look on the eastern parapet. The river andhills were growing lovely in cooler lights; shadow wasstealing over the plain. 

"Shall I see you to-morrow evening?" my companion askedsuddenly. 

"To-morrow evening?" I said. "I don't know. I suppose we shallbe at home. "

"Then I shall _not_ see you. I meant, at the hop. "

"The hop?" I repeated. "What is that?"

"The cadets' hop. During the encampment we have a hop threetimes a week — a cotillion party. I hope you will be there. Haven't you received an invitation?"

"I think not, " I said. "I have heard nothing about it. "

"I will see that that is set right, " Mr. Thorold remarked. "And now, do you know we must go down? — that is, _I_ must; andI do not think I can leave you here. "

"Oh, you have to be on parade!" I exclaimed, starting up; "andit is almost time! —"

It was indeed, and though my companion put his own concerns inthe background very politely, I would be hurried. We ran downthe hill, Mr. Thorold's hand helping me over the rough way andsecuring me from stumbling. In very few minutes we were againat the gate and entered upon the post limits. And there werethe band, in dark column, just coming up from below the hill. 

We walked the rest of the way in orderly fashion enough, tillwe got to the hotel gate; there Mr. Thorold touched his capand left me, on a run, for the camp. I watched till I saw hegot there in time; and then went slowly in; feeling that agreat piece of pleasure was over. 

I had had a great many pieces of pleasure in my life, butrarely a _companion_. Dr. Sandford, Miss Cardigan, my dearCaptain Drummond, were all much in advance of my own age; myservants were my servants, at Magnolia; and Preston had neverassociated with me on just the footing of equality. I went upstairs thinking that I should like to see a great deal more ofMr. Thorold. 

Mrs. Sandford was on the piazza when I came down, and alone;everybody was gone to parade. She gave me a little billet. 

"Well, Daisy! — are you walked to death, my dear? Certainly, West Point agrees with you! What a colour! And what a change!You are not the same creature that we brought away from NewYork. Well, was it worth going for, all the way to see thatold ruin? My dear! I wish your father and mother could seeyou. "

I stood still, wishing they could. 

"There is more pleasure for you, " — Mrs. Sandford went on. 

"What is this, ma'am?"

"An invitation. The cadets have little parties for dancing, itseems, three times a week, in summer; poor fellows! it is allthe recreation they get, I suspect; and, of course, they wantall the ladies that can be drummed up, to help them dance. It's quite a charity, they tell me. I expect I shall have todance myself. "

I looked at the note, and stood mute, thinking what I shoulddo. Ever since Mr. Thorold had mentioned it, up on the hill, the question had been recurring to me. I had never been to aparty in my life, since my childish days at Melbourne. AuntGary's parties at Magnolia had been of a different kind fromthis; not assemblies of young people. At Mme. Ricard's I hadtaken dancing lessons, at my mother's order; and in herdrawing room I had danced quadrilles and waltzes with myschoolfellows; but Mme. Ricard was very particular, and nobodyelse was ever admitted. I hardly knew what it was to which Iwas now invited. To dance with the cadets! I knew only threeof them; however, I supposed that I might dance with thosethree. I had an impression that amusements of this kind wererather found in the houses of the gay than the sober-minded;but this was peculiar, to help the cadets dance, Mrs. Sandfordsaid. I thought Mr. Thorold wished I would come. I wonderedPreston had not mentioned it. He, I knew, was very fond ofdancing. I mused till the people came back from parade and wewere called to tea; but all my musings went no further. I didnot decide not to go. 

"Now, Daisy, " said Mrs. Sandford the next morning, "if you aregoing to the hop to-night, I don't intend to have you out inthe sun burning yourself up. It will be terribly hot; and youmust keep quiet. I am so thankful Grant is away! he would haveyou all through the woods, hunting for nobody knows what, andbring you home scorched. "

"Dear Mrs. Sandford, " I said, "I can dance just as well, if I_am_ burnt. "

"That's a delusion, Daisy. You are a woman, after all, mydear, — or you will be; and you may as well submit to theresponsibility. And you may not know it, but you have awonderfully fine skin, my dear; it always puts me in mind offresh cream. "

"Cream is yellow, " I said. 

"Not all the cream that ever _I_ saw, " said Mrs. Sandford. "Daisy, you need not laugh. You will be a queen, my dear, whenyou cease to be a child. What are you going to wear to-night?"

"I don't know, ma'am; anything cool, I suppose. "

"It won't matter much, " Mrs. Sandford repeated. 

But yet I found she cared and it did matter, when it came tothe dressing time. However she was satisfied with one of theembroidered muslins my mother had sent me from Paris. 

I think I see myself now, seated in the omnibus and trundlingover the plain to the cadets' dancing rooms. The very hot, still July night seems round me again. Lights were twinklingin the camp, and across the plain in the houses of theprofessors and officers; lights above in the sky too, myriadsof them, mocking the tapers that go out so soon. I was happywith a little flutter of expectation; quietly enjoyingmeanwhile the novel loveliness of all about me, along with theold familiar beauty of the abiding stars and dark blue sky. Itwas a five minutes of great enjoyment. But all natural beautyvanished from my thoughts when the omnibus drew up at the doorof the Academic Building. I was entering on something untried. 

At first sight, when we went into the room, it burst upon methat it was very pretty. The room was dressed with flags, —and evergreens, — and with uniforms; and undoubtedly there ischarm in colour, and a gilt button and a gold strap do lightup the otherwise sombre and heavy figures of our Westernmasculine costume. The white and rosy and blue draperies andscarfs that were floating around the forms of the ladies, weremet and set off by the grey and white of the cadets and theheavier dark blue of the officers. I never anywhere else sawso pretty gatherings. I stood quite enchanted with thepleasure of the eye; till to my startled astonishment, CaptainPcrcival came up and asked me to dance the first dance withhim. I had not expected to dance with anybody except Prestonand Mr. Thorold, and perhaps Mr. Caxton. Mr. Thorold came upbefore the dance began, and I presented him to Mrs. Sandford. He asked me for the first dance, then for the second. Andthere was no more time for anything, for the dancing began. 

I had always liked dancing at school. Here the music was farbetter and the scene infinitely prettier; it was verypleasant, I thought. That is, when Captain Percival did nottalk; for he talked nothings. I did not know how to answerhim. Of course it had been very hot to-day; and the rooms werevery full; and there were a good many people at the hotel. Ihad nothing but an insipid affirmative to give to thesepropositions. Then said Captain Percival insinuatingly —

"You are from the South?"

I had nothing but an insipid assent again. 

"I was sure of it, " he said. "I could not be mistaken. "

I wondered how he knew, but it did not suit me to ask him; andwe danced on again till the dance came to an end. I was gladwhen it did. In a minute more I was standing by Mrs. Sandfordand introduced to Captain Boulanger, who also asked me todance, and engaged me for the next but one; and then Mr. Caxton brought up one of his brother cadets and presented him, and he asked me, and looked disappointed when for both thenext dances I was obliged to refuse him. I was quite glad whenMr. Thorold came and carried me off. The second quadrille wentbetter than the first; and I was enjoying myself unfeignedly, when in a pause of the dance I remarked to my partner thatthere seemed to be plenty of ladies here to-night. 

"Plenty, " he said. "It is very kind of them. What then?"

"Only —" I said — "so many people came and asked me to dancein the few minutes I stood by Mrs. Sandford, and one of themlooked quite disappointed that he could not have me. "

I was met by a look of the keenest inquiry, followed instantlyand superseded by another flash of expression. I could notcomprehend it at the time. The eyes, which had startled me bytheir steely gleam, softened wonderfully with what looked likenothing so much as reverence, along with some other expressionwhich I could neither read at the moment nor fathomafterwards. 

Both looks were gone before I could ask him what they meant, or perhaps I should have asked; for I was beginning to feelvery much at my ease with Mr. Thorold. I trusted him. 

"Did he want you for this dance?" was all he said. 

"For this, and for the next, " I answered. 

"Both gone! Well, may I have the third, and so disappointsomebody else?" he said laughing. 

If I did not talk much with Mr. Thorold in intervals ofdancing, at least we did not talk nonsense. In the next pausehe remarked that he saw I was fond of this amusement. 

"I think I like everything, " I told him. 

"Are the hills better than this?" he whispered. 

"Oh, yes!" I said. "Don't you think so?"

He smiled, and said "truly he did. " "You have been over theFlirtation walk, of course?" he added. 

"I do not know which it is. "

He smiled again, that quick illuminating smile which seemed tosparkle in his hazel eyes; and nodded his head a little. 

"I had the pleasure to see you there, very early one morning. "

"Oh, is that it?" I said. "I have been down that way from thehotel very often. "

"That way leads to it. You were upon it, where you weresitting. You have not been through it yet? May I show it toyou some day? To-morrow?"

I agreed joyfully; and then asked who were certain of thecadets whom I saw about the room, with rosettes of ribbon andlong streamers on the breast of their grey coats?

"Those are the Managers, " said my companion. "You will seeenough of them. It is their duty to introduce poor fellows whowant partners. "

I did not see much of them, however, that evening. As soon asI was released from that dance, Captain Percival brought upCaptain Lascelles; and somebody else, Mr. Sandford, I believe, introduced Lt. Vaux, and Major Fairbairn; and Major Pitt wasanother, I believe. And Colonel Walruss brought up his son, who was in the corps of cadets. They all wanted to dance withme; so it was lucky Mr. Thorold had secured his second dance, or I could not have given it to him. I went over and overagain the same succession of topics, in the intervals ofstanding still. How the day had been warm, and the eveningkept up its character; the hotels were full now; the cadetswell off to have so many ladies; dancing a pleasant pastime, and West Point a nice place. I got so accustomed to theremarks I might expect, that my mouth was ready with anassenting "yes" before the speaker began. But the talking wasa small part of the business after all; and the evening wentmerrily for me, till on a sudden a shrill piercing summons ofdrum and fife, rolling as it were into our very ears, put astop to proceedings. Midway in the movement the dancersstopped; there was a hurried bow and curtsey, and an instantscattering of all the grey-coated part of the assembly. The"hop" was over. We went home in the warm moonlight, I thinkingthat I had had a very nice time, and glad that Mr. Thorold wascoming to take me to walk to-morrow. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

HOPS. 

The afternoon was very sultry; however Mr. Thorold came, andwe went for our walk. It was so sultry we went very leisurely, and also met few people; and instead of looking very carefullyat the beauties of nature and art we had come to see, we gotinto a great talk as we strolled along; indeed, sometimes westopped and sat down to talk. Mr. Thorold told me abouthimself, or rather, about his home in Vermont and his old lifethere. He had no mother, and no brothers nor sisters; only hisfather. And he described to me the hills of his nativecountry, and the farm his father cultivated, and the people, and the life on the mountains. Strong and free and fresh andindependent and intelligent — that was the impression his talkmade upon me, of the country and people and life alike. Sometimes my thoughts took a private turn of their own, branching off. 

"Mr. Thorold, " said I, "do you know Mr. Davis, ofMississippi?"

"Davis? No, I don't know him, " he said shortly. 

"You have seen him?"

"Yes, I have seen him often enough; and his wife, too. "

"Do you like his looks?"

"I do not. "

"He looks to me like a bad man —" I said slowly. I said it toMr. Thorold; I would hardly have made the remark to another atWest Point. 

"He is about bad business —" was my companion's answer. "Andyet — I do not know what he is about; but I distrust the man. "

"Mr. Thorold, " said I, beginning cautiously, "do you want tohave slavery go into the territories?"

"No, " said he. "Do you?"

"No. What do you think would happen if a Northern Presidentshould be elected in the fall?"

"Then slavery would _not_ go into the territories, " he said, looking a little surprised at me. "The question would besettled. "

"But do you know some people say — some people at the Southsay — that if a Northern President is elected, the SouthernStates will not submit to him?"

"Some people talk a great deal of nonsense, " said Mr. Thorold. "How could they help submitting?"

"They say — it is said — that they would break off from theNorth and set up for themselves. It is not foolish people thatsay it, Mr. Thorold. "

"Will you pardon me, Miss Randolph, but I think they would bevery foolish people that would do it. "

"Oh, I think so too, " I said. "I mean, that some people whoare not foolish, believe that it might happen. "

"Perhaps, " said Mr. Thorold. "I never heard anything of itbefore. You are from the South yourself, Miss Randolph?" headded, looking at me. 

"I was born there, " I said. And a little silence fell betweenus. I was thinking. Some impression, got I suppose from myremembrance of father and mother, Preston, and others whom Ihad known, forbade me to dismiss quite so lightly, as tooabsurd to be true, the rumour I had heard. Moreover, I trustedDr. Sandford's sources of information, living as he did inhabits of close social intercourse with men of influence andposition at Washington, both Southern and Northern. 

"Mr. Thorold" — I broke the silence, — "if the South should dosuch a thing, what would happen?"

"There would be trouble, " he said. 

"What sort of trouble?"

"Might be all sorts, " said Mr. Thorold, laughing; "it woulddepend on how far people's folly would carry them. "

"But suppose the Southern States should just do that; — saythey would break off and govern themselves?"

"They would be like a bad boy that has to be made to takemedicine. "

"How could you _make_ them?" I asked, feeling unreasonably graveabout the question. 

"You can see, Miss Randolph, that such a thing could not bepermitted. A Government that would let any part of itssubjects break away at their pleasure from its rule, woulddeserve to go to pieces. If one part might go, another partmight go. There would be no nation left. "

"But how could you _help_ it?" I asked. 

"I don't know whether we could help it, " he said; "but wewould try. "

"You do not mean, that it would come to _fighting?_"

"I do not think they would be such fools. I hope we aresupposing a very unlikely thing, Miss Randolph. "

I hoped so. But that impression of Southern character troubledme yet. Fighting! I looked at the peaceful hills, feeling asif indeed "all the foundations of the earth" would be "out ofcourse. "

"What would _you_ do in case it came to fighting?" said myneighbour. The words startled me out of my meditations. 

"I could not do anything. "

"I beg your pardon. Your favour — your countenance, would domuch; on one side or the other. You would fight — in effect —as surely as I should. "

I looked up. "Not against you, " I said; for I could not bearto be misunderstood. 

There was a strange sparkle in Mr. Thorold's eye; but thoseflashes of light came and went so like flashes, that I couldnot always tell what they meant. The tone of his voice howeverI knew expressed pleasure. 

"How comes that?" he said. "You _are_ Southern?"

"Do I look it?" I asked. 

"Pardon me — yes. "

"How, Mr. Thorold?"

"You must excuse me. I cannot tell you. But you _are_ South?"

"Yes, " I said. "At least all my friends are Southern. I wasborn there. "

"You have one Northern friend, " said Mr. Thorold, as we roseup to go on. He said it with meaning. I looked up and smiled. There was a smile in his eyes, mixed with something more. Ithink our compact of friendship was made and settled then andat once. 

He stretched out his hand as if for a further ratification. Iput mine in it, while he went on, "How comes it then that youtake such a view of such a question?"

There had sprung up a new tone in our intercourse, of morefamiliarity, and more intimate trust. It gave infinite contentto me; and I went on to answer, telling him about my Northernlife. Drawn on, from question to question, I detailed atlength my Southern experience also, and put my new friend inpossession not only of my opinions, but of the training underwhich they had been formed. My hand, I remember, remained inhis while I talked, as if he had been my brother; till hesuddenly put it down and plunged into the bushes for a bunchof wild roses. A party of walkers came round an angle a momentafter; and, waking up to a consciousness of our surroundings, we found, or _I_ did, that we were just at the end of the rockywalk, where we must mount up and take to the plain. 

The evening was falling very fair over plain and hill when wegot to the upper level. Mr. Thorold proposed that I should goand see the camp, which I liked very much to do. So he took meall through it, and showed and explained all sorts of thingsabout the tents and the way of life they lived in them. Hesaid he should like it very much, if he only had more room;but three or four in one little tent nine feet by nine, gavehardly, as he said, "a chance to a fellow. " The tents and thecamp alleys were full of cadets, loitering about, or talking, or busy with their accoutrements; here and there I saw anofficer. Captain Percival bowed, Captain Lascelles spoke. Ilooked for Preston, but I could see him nowhere. Then Mr. Thorold brought me into his own tent, introduced one or twocadets who were loitering there and who immediately tookthemselves away; and made me sit down on what he called a"locker. " The tent curtains were rolled tight up, as far asthey would go, and so were the curtains of every other tent;most beautiful order prevailed everywhere and over everytrifling detail. 

"Well, " said Mr. Thorold, sitting down opposite me on acandle-box — "how do you think you would like camp life?"

"The tents are too close together, " I said. 

He laughed, with a good deal of amusement. 

"That will do!" he said. "You begin by knocking the camp topieces. "

"But it is beautiful, " I went on. 

"And not comfortable. Well, it is pretty comfortable, " hesaid. 

"How do you do when it storms very hard — at night?"

"Sleep. "

"Don't you ever get wet?"

"_That_ makes no difference. "

"Sleep in the wet!" said I. And he laughed again at me. It wasnot banter. The whole look and air of the man testified to athorough soldierly, manly contempt of little things — of allthings that might come in the way of order and his duty. Anintrinsic independence and withal control of circumstances, inso far as the mind can control them. I read the power to doit. But I wondered to myself if he never got homesick in thatlittle tent and full camp. It would not do to touch thequestion. 

"Do you know Preston Gary?" I asked. "He is a cadet. "

"I know him. "

I thought the tone of the words, careless as they were, signified little value for the knowledge. 

"I have not seen him anywhere, " I remarked. 

"Do you want to see him? He has seen you. "

"No, he cannot, " I said, "or he would have come to speak tome. "

"He would if he could, " replied Mr. Thorold, — "no doubt; butthe liberty is wanting. He is on guard. We crossed his path aswe came into the camp. "

"On guard!" I said. "Is he? Why, he was on guard only a day ortwo ago. Does it come so often?"

"It comes pretty often in Gary's case, " said my companion. 

"Does it?" I said. "He does not like it. "

"No, " said Mr. Thorold merrily. "It is not a favouriteamusement in most cases. "

"Then why does he have so much of it?"

"Gary is not fond of discipline. "

I guessed this might be true. I knew enough of Preston forthat. But it startled me. 

"Does he not obey the regulations?" I asked presently, in alowered tone. 

Mr. Thorold smiled. "He is a friend of yours, Miss Randolph?"

"Yes, " I said. "He is my mother's nephew. "

"Then he is your cousin?" said my companion. Another of thosepenetrative glances fell on me. They were peculiar; theyflashed upon me, or through me, as keen and clear as the flashof a sabre in the sun; and out of eyes in which a sunlight ofmerriment or benignity was even then glowing. Both glowed uponme just at this moment, so I did not mind the keeninvestigation. Indeed I never minded it. I learned to know itas one of Mr. Thorold's peculiarities. Now, Dr. Sandford had agood eye for reading people, but it never flashed, unlessunder strong excitement. Mr. Thorold's were dancing andflashing and sparkling with fifty things by turns; their fundof amusement and power of observation were the first thingsthat struck me, and they attracted me too. 

"Then he is your cousin?"

"Of course, he is my cousin. "

I thought Mr. Thorold seemed a little bit grave and silent fora moment; then he rose up, with that benign look of his eyesglowing all over me, and told me there was the drum forparade. "Only the first drum, " he added; so I need not be in ahurry. Would I go home before parade?

I thought I would. If Preston was pacing up and down the sideof the camp ground, I thought I did not want to see him nor tohave him see me; as he was there for what I called disgrace. Moreover I had a secret presentiment of a breezy discussionwith him the next time there was a chance. 

And I was not disappointed. The next day, in the afternoon hecame to see us. Mrs. Sandford and I were sitting on thepiazza, where the heat of an excessively sultry day was nowrelieved a little by a slender breeze coming out of the north-west. It was very hot still. Preston sat down and madeconversation in an abstracted way for a little while. 

"We did not see you at the hop the other night, Mr. Gary, "Mrs. Sandford remarked. 

"No. Were you there?" said Preston. 

"Everybody was there — except you. "

"And Daisy? Were _you_ there, Daisy?"

"Certainly, " Mrs. Sandford responded. "Everybody else couldhave been better missed. "

"I did not know you went there, " said Preston, in something solike a growl that Mrs. Sandford lifted her eyes to look athim. 

"I do not wonder you are jealous, " she said composedly. 

"Jealous!" said Preston, with growl the second. 

"You had more reason than you knew. "

Preston grumbled something about the hops being "stupidplaces. " I kept carefully still. 

"Daisy, did _you_ go?"

I looked up, and said yes. 

"Whom did you dance with?"

"With everybody, " said Mrs. Sandford. "That is, so far as thelength of the evening made it possible. Blue and grey, and allcolours. "

"I don't want you to dance with everybody, " said Preston, in amore undertone growl. 

"There is no way to prevent it, " said Mrs. Sandford, "but tobe there and ask her yourself. "

I did not thank Mrs. Sandford, privately for this suggestion;which Preston immediately followed up by enquiring "if we weregoing to the hop to-night?"

"Certainly, " Mrs. Sandford said. 

"It's too confounded hot!"

"Not for us who are accustomed to the climate, " Mrs. Sandfordsaid, with spirit. 

"It's a bore altogether, " muttered Preston. "Daisy, are yougoing to-night?"

"I suppose so. "

"Well, if you must go, you may as well dance with me as withanybody. So tell anybody else that you are engaged. I willtake care of you. "

"Don't you wish to dance with anybody except me?"

"I do not, " said Preston slowly. "As I said, it is too hot. Iconsider the whole thing a bore. "

"You shall not be bored for me, " I said. "I refuse to dancewith you. I hope I shall not see you there at all. "

"Daisy!"

"Well?"

"Come down and take a little walk with me. "

"You said, it is too hot. "

"But you will dance?"

"You will not dance. "

"I want to speak to you, Daisy. "

"You may speak, " I said. I did not want to hear him, for therewere no indications of anything agreeable in Preston's manner. 

"Daisy!" he said, — "I do not know you. "

"You used to know her, " said Mrs. Sandford; "that is all. "

"Will you come and walk with me?" said Preston, almostangrily. 

"I do not think it would be pleasant, " I said. 

"You were walking yesterday afternoon. "

"Yes!"

"Come and walk up and down the piazza, anyhow. You can dothat. "

I could, and did not refuse. He chose the sunny western side, because no one was there. However, the sun's rays wereobscured under a thick haze and had been all day. 

"Whom were you with?" Preston enquired, as soon as we were outof earshot. 

"Do you mean yesterday?"

"Of course I mean yesterday! I saw you cross in to the camp. With whom were you going there?"

"Why did you not come to speak to me?" I said. 

"I was on duty. I could not. "

"I did not see you anywhere. "

"I was on guard. You crossed my path not ten feet off. "

"Then you must know whom I was with, Preston, " I said, lookingat him. 

"_You_ don't know — that is the thing. It was that fellowThorold. "

"How came you to be on guard again so soon? You were on guardjust a day or two before. "

"That is all right enough. It is about military things, thatyou do not understand. It is all right enough, except theseconfounded Yankees. And Thorold is another. "

"Who is _one?_" I said, laughing. "You say he is _another_. "

"Blunt is one. "

"I like Major Blunt. "

"Daisy, " said Preston, stopping short, "you ought to be withyour mother. There is nobody to take care of you here. Howcame you to know that Thorold?"

"He was introduced to me. What is the matter with him?"

"You ought not to be going about with him. He is a regularYankee, I tell you. "

"What does that mean?" I said. "You speak it as if you meantsomething very objectionable. 

"I do. They are a cowardly set of tailors. They have no ideawhat a gentleman means, not one of them, unless they havecaught the idea from a Southerner. I don't want you to haveanything to do with them, Daisy. You must not dance with them, and you must not be seen with this Thorold. Promise me youwill not. "

"Dr. Sandford is another, " I said. 

"I can't help Dr. Sandford. He is your guardian. You must notgo again with Thorold!"

"Did you ever know _him_ cowardly?" I asked. 

I was sure that Preston coloured; whether with any feelingbeside anger I could not make out; but the anger was certain. 

"What do you know about it?" he asked. 

"What do you?" I rejoined. But Preston changed more and more. 

"Daisy, promise me you will not have anything to do with thesefellows. You are too good to dance with them. There are plentyof Southern people here now, and lots of Southern cadets. "

"Mr. Caxton is one, " I said. "I don't like him. "

"He is of an excellent Georgia family, " said Preston. 

"I cannot help that. He is neither gentlemanly in his habits, nor true in his speech. "

Preston hereupon broke out into an untempered abuse ofNorthern things in general and Northern cadets in particular, mingled with a repetition of his demands upon me. At length Iturned from him. 

"This is very tiresome, Preston, " I said; "and this side ofthe house is very warm. Of course I must dance with whoeverasks me. "

"Well, I have asked you for this evening, " he said, followingme. 

"You are not to go, " I said. "I shall not dance with youonce, " and I took my former place by Mrs. Sandford. Prestonfumed; declared I was just like a piece of marble; and wentaway. I did not feel quite so impassive as he said I looked. 

"What are you going to wear to-night, Daisy?" Mrs. Sandfordasked presently. 

"I don't know, ma'am. "

"But you must know soon, my dear. Have you agreed to give yourcousin half the evening?"

"No, ma'am — I could not — I am engaged for every dance, andmore. "

"More!" said Mrs. Sandford. 

"Yes ma'am — for the next time. "

"Preston has reason!" she said, laughing. "But I think, Daisy, Grant will be the most jealous of all. Do him good. What willbecome of his sciences and his microscope now?"

"Why, I shall be just as ready for them, " I said. 

Mrs. Sandford shook her head. "You will find the hops willtake more than that, " she said. "But now, Daisy, think whatyou will wear; for we must go soon and get ready. "

I did not want to think about it. I expected, of course, toput on the same dress I had worn the last time. But Mrs. Sandford objected very strongly. 

"You must not wear the same thing twice running, " she said;"not if you can help it. "

I could not imagine why not. 

"It is quite nice enough, " I urged. "It is scarcely the leastmussed in the world. "

"People will think you have not another, my dear. "

"What matter would that be?" I said, wholly puzzled. 

"Now, my dear Daisy!" said Mrs. Sandford, half laughing, —"you are the veriest Daisy in the world, and do not understandthe world that you grow in. No matter; just oblige me, and puton something else to-night. What have you got?"

I had other dresses like the rejected one. I had anotherstill, white like them, but of different make and quality. Ihardly knew what it was, for I had never worn it; to pleaseMrs. Sandford I took it out now. She was pleased. It was, likethe rest, out of the store my mother had sent me; a soft Indiamuslin, of beautiful texture, made and trimmed as my motherand a Parisian artist could manage between them. But noParisian artist could know better than my mother how a thingshould be. 

"That will do!" said Mrs. Sandford approvingly. "Dear me, whatlace! What lace you Southern ladies do wear, to be sure! Ablue sash, now, Daisy?"

"No ma'am, I think not. "

"Rose? It must be blue or rose. "

But I thought differently, and kept it white. 

"_No_ colour?" said Mrs. Sandford. "None at all? Then just letme put this little bit of green in your hair. "

As I stood before the glass and she tried various positionsfor some geranium leaves, I felt that would not do either. Anydressing of my head would commonise the whole thing. I watchedher fingers and the geranium leaves going from one side of myhead to the other, watched how every touch changed the tone ofmy costume, and felt that I could not suffer it; and then itsuddenly occurred to me that I, who a little while before hadnot cared about my dress for the evening, now did care, andthat determinedly. I knew I would wear no geranium leaves, noteven to please Mrs. Sandford. And for the first time aquestion stole into my mind, what was I, Daisy, doing? Butthen I said to myself, that the dress without this headadorning was perfect in its elegance; it suited me; and it wasnot wrong to like beauty nor to dislike things in bad taste. Perhaps I was too handsomely dressed, but I could not changethat now. Another time I would go back to my embroideredmuslins, and stay there. 

"I like it better without anything, Mrs. Sandford, " I said, removing her green decorations and turning away from theglass. Mrs. Sandford sighed, but said "it would do withoutthem, " and away we went. 

I can see it all again; I can almost feel the omnibus rollwith me over the plain, that still sultry night. All thosenights were sultry. Then as we came near the AcademicBuilding, I could see the lights in the upper windows; hereand there an officer sitting in a window-sill, and the figuresof cadets passing back and forth. Then we mounted to the hallabove, filled with cadets in a little crowd, and words ofrecognition came, and Preston, meeting us almost before we gotout of the dressing room. 

"Daisy, you dance with me?"

"I am engaged, Preston, for the first dance. "

"Already! The second, then, and all the others?"

"I am engaged, " — I repeated, and left him, for Mr. Thoroldwas at my side. 

I forgot Preston the next minute. It was easy to forget him, for all the first half of the evening I was honestly happy indancing. In talking too, whenever Thorold was my partner;other people's talk was very tiresome. They went over theplatitudes of the day; or they started subjects of interestthat were not interesting to me. Bits of gossip — discussionsof fashionable amusements with which I could have nothing todo; frivolous badinage, which was of all things mostdistasteful to me. Yet, amid it all, I believe, there was asubtle incense of admiration which by degrees and insensiblyfound its way to my senses. But I had two dances with Thorold, and at those times I was myself and enjoyed unalloyedpleasure. And so I thought did he. 

I saw Preston, when now and then I caught a glimpse of him, looking excessively glum. Midway in the evening it happenedthat I was standing beside him for a few moments, waiting formy next partner. 

"You are dancing with nobody but that man whom I hate!" hegrumbled. "Who is it now?"

"Captain Vaux. "

"Will you dance with me after that?"

"I cannot, Preston. I must dance with Major Banks. "

"You seem to like it pretty well, " he growled. 

"No wonder, " said Mrs. Sandford. "You were quite right aboutthe geranium leaves, Daisy; you do not want them. You do notwant anything, my dear, " she whispered. 

At this instant a fresh party entered the room, just as mypartner came up to claim me. 

"There are some handsome girls, " said the captain. "Two ofthem, really!"

"People from Cozzens's, " said Mrs. Sandford, "who think thecadets keep New York hours. "

It was Faustina St. Clair and Mary Lansing, with their friendsand guardians, I don't know whom. And as I moved to take myplace in the dance, I was presently confronted by my schooladversary and the partner she had immediately found. Thegreeting was very slight and cool on her side. 

"Excessively handsome, " whispered the captain. "A friend ofyours?"

"A schoolfellow, " I said. 

"Must be a pleasant thing, I declare, to have such handsomeschoolfellows, " said the captain. "Beauty is a great thing, isn't it? I wonder sometimes how the ladies can make up theirminds to take up with such great rough ugly fellows as we are, for a set. How do you think it is?"

I thought it was wonderful too, when they were like him. But Isaid nothing. 

"Dress too, " said the captain. "Now look at our dress!Straight and square and stiff; and no variety in it. While oureyes are delighted, on the other side, with soft draperies andfine colours, and combinations of grace and elegance, that arefit to put a man in Elysium!"

"Did you notice the colour of the haze in the west, thisevening at sunset?" I asked. 

"Haze? No, really. I didn't know there was any haze, really, except in my head. I get hazy amidst these combinations. Seriously, Miss Randolph, what do you think of a soldier'slife?"

"It depends on who the soldier is, " I said. 

"Cool, really!" said the captain. "Cool! Ha! ha! —"

And he laughed, till I wondered what I could have said toamuse him so much. 

"Then you have learned to individualise soldiers already?" washis next question, put with a look which seemed to meinquisitive and impertinent. I did not know how to answer it, and left it unanswered; — and the captain and I had the restof our dance out in silence. Meanwhile, I could not helpwatching Faustina. — She was so very handsome, with a marked, dashing sort of beauty that I saw was prodigiously admired. She took no notice of me, and barely touched the tips of myfingers with her glove as we passed in the dance. 

As he was leading me back to Mrs. Sandford, the captainstooped his head to mine. "Forgive me?" — he whispered. "Somuch gentleness cannot bear revenge. I am only a soldier. "

"Forgive you what, sir?" I asked. And he drew up his headagain, half laughed, muttered that I was worse than grape orround shot, and handed me over to my guardian. 

"My dear Daisy, " said Mrs. Sandford, "if you were not so sweetas you are, you would be a queen. There, now! do not lift upyour grey eyes at me like that, or I shall make you areverence the first thing I do, and fancy that I am one ofyour _dames d'honneur_. Who is next? Major Banks? Take care, Daisy, or you'll do some mischief. "

I had not time to think about her words; the dances wentforward, and I took my part in them with great pleasure untilthe tattoo summons broke us up. Indeed my pleasure lasteduntil we got home to the hotel, and I heard Mrs. Sandfordsaying, in an aside to her husband, amid some rejoicing overme, — "I was dreadfully afraid she wouldn't go. " The words, orsomething in them, gave me a check. However, I had too manyexciting things to think of to take it up just then; and mybrain was in a whirl of pleasure till I went to sleep. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

OBEYING ORDERS. 

As I roomed with Mrs. Sandford, of course I had very scantopportunities of being by myself. In the delightful earlymornings I was accustomed to take my book, therefore, and godown where I had gone the first morning, to the rocks by theriver's side. Nobody came by that way at so early an hour; Ihad been seen by nobody except that one time, when Thorold andhis companion passed me; and I felt quite safe. It waspleasanter down there than can be told. However sultry the airon the heights above, so near the water there was always asavour of freshness; or else I fancied it, in the hearing ofthe soft liquid murmur of the little wavelets against theshore. But sometimes it was so still I could hear nothing ofthat; then birds and insects, or the faint notes of a buglecall, were the only things to break the absolute hush; and thelight was my refreshment, on river and tree and rock and hill;one day sharp and clear, another day fairyland- like anddreamy through golden mist. 

It was a good retiring place in any case, so early in the day. I could read and pray there better than in a room, I thought. The next morning after my second dancing party, I was there asusual. It was a sultry July morning, the yellow light in thehaze on the hills threatening a very hot day. I was veryhappy, as usual; but somehow my thoughts went roaming off intothe yellow haze as if the landscape had been my life, and Iwere trying to pick out points of light here and there, andsporting on the gay surface. I danced my dances over again inthe flow of the river; heard soft words of kindness oradmiration in the song of the birds; wandered away in mazes ofspeculative fancy among the thickets of tree stems and under-brush. The sweet wonderful note of a wood thrush, somewherefar out of sight, assured me, what everything conspired toassure me, that I was certainly in fairyland, not on thecommon earth. But I could not somehow get on with my Bible. Again and again I began to read; then a bird or a bough or aripple would catch my attention, and straightway I was off ona flight of fancy or memory, dancing over again my dances withMr. Thorold, dwelling upon the impression of his figure anddress, and the fascination of his brilliant, changing hazeleyes; or recalling Captain Vaux's or somebody else's insipidwords and looks, or Faustina St. Clair's manner of ill will;or on the other hand giving a passing thought to the question, how I should dress the next hop night. After a long wanderingI would come back and begin at my Bible again, but only for alittle; my fancy could not be held to it; and a few scarcelyread verses and a few half-uttered petitions were all I hadaccomplished before the clangour of the hotel gong soundingdown even to me, warned me that my time was gone. And the noteof the wood-thrush as I slowly mounted the path, struckreproachfully and rebukingly upon the ear of my conscience. 

How had this come about? I mused as I went up the hill. Whatwas the matter? What had bewitched me? No pleasure in myBible; no time for prayer; and only the motion of feet movingto music, only the flutter of lace and muslin, and theflashing of hazel eyes, filling my brain? What was wrong? Nay, something! And why had Mrs. Sandford "feared" I would not goto the hops? Were they not places for Christians to go to?What earthly harm? Only pleasure. But what if pleasure thatmarred better pleasure — that interrupted duty? And why was Iruminating on styles and colours, and proposing to put onanother dress that should be more becoming the next time? andthinking that it would be well it should be a contrast toFaustina St. Clair? What! entering the lists with her, on herown field? No, no; I could not think it. But what then? Andwhat was this little flutter at my heart about gentlemen'swords and looks of homage and liking? What could it be to me, that such people as Captain Vaux or Captain Lascelles likedme? Captain Lascelles, who when he was not dancing or flirtingwas pleased to curl himself up on one of the window seats likea monkey, and take a grinning survey of what went on. Was Iflattered by such admiration as his? — or _any_ admiration? Iliked to have Mr. Thorold like me; yes, I was not wrong to bepleased with that; besides, that was _liking;_ not emptycompliments. But for my lace and my India muslin and my"Southern elegance" — I knew Colonel Walrus meant me when hetalked about that, — was I thinking of admiration for suchthings as these, and thinking so much, that my Bible readinghad lost its charm? What was in fault? Not the hops? They weretoo pleasant. It could not be the hops. 

I mounted the hill slowly and in a great maze, getting moreand more troubled. I entering the lists with Faustina St. Clair, going in her ways? I knew these were her ways. I hadheard scraps enough of conversation among the girls aboutthese things, which I then did not understand. And anotherword came therewith into my mind, powerful once before andpowerful now to disentangle the false from the true. "Theworld knoweth us not. " Did it not know me, last night? Wouldit not, if I went there again? But the hops were so pleasant!

It almost excites a smile in me now to think how pleasant theywere. I was only sixteen. I had seen no dancing parties otherthan the little school assemblages at Mme. Ricard's; and I wasfond of the amusement even there. Here, it seemed to me thenas if all prettiness and pleasantness that could come togetherin such a gathering, met, in the dancing room of the cadets. Ithink not very differently now, as to that point. The prettyaccompaniments of uniform; the simple style and hours; thehearty enjoyment of the occasion; were all a little unlikewhat is found at other places. And to me, and to increase mydifficulty, came a crowning pleasure; I met Thorold there. Tohave a good dance and talk with him was worth certainly allthe rest. Must I give it up?

I could not bear to think so, but the difficulty helped toprick my conscience. There had been only two fops, and I wasso enthralled already. How would it be if I had been to adozen? and where might it end? And the word stands, — "theworld knoweth us _not_. "

It must not know me, Daisy Randolph, as in any sort belongingto it or mixed up with it; and therefore — Daisy Randolph mustgo to the hop no more. I felt the certainty of the decisiongrowing over me, even while I was appalled by it. I staved offconsideration all that day. 

In the afternoon Mr. Thorold came and took me to see thelaboratory, and explained for me a number of curious things. Ishould have had great enjoyment, if Preston had not taken itinto his head, unasked, to go along; being unluckily with mewhen Thorold came. He was a thorough marplot; saying nothingof consequence himself, and only keeping a grim watch — Icould take it as nothing else — of everything we said and did. Consequently, Mr. Thorold's lecture was very proper and grave, instead of being full of fun and amusement as well asinstruction. I took Preston to task about it when we got home. 

"You hinder pleasure when you go in that mood, " I told him. 

"What mood?"

"You know. You never are pleasant when Mr. Thorold is presentor when he is mentioned. "

"He is a cowardly Yankee!" was Preston's rejoinder. 

"_Cowardly_, Gary?" — said somebody near; and I saw a cadet whomI did not know, who came from behind us and passed by on thepiazza. He did not look at us, and stayed not for any morewords; but turning to Preston, I was surprised to see his faceviolently flushed. 

"Who was that?"

"No matter — impertinence!" he muttered. 

"But what _is_ the matter? and what did he mean?"

"He is one of Thorold's set, " said Preston; "and I tell you, Daisy, you shall not have anything to do with them. AuntFelicia would never allow it. She would not look at themherself. You shall not have anything more to do with them. "

How could I, if I was going no more to the hops? How could Isee Thorold, or anybody? The thought struck to my heart, and Imade no answer. Company, however, kept me from considering thematter all the evening. 

But the next day, early, I was in my usual place; near theriver side, among the rocks, with my Bible; and I resolved tosettle the question there as it ought to be settled. I wasresolved; but to do what I had resolved, was difficult. For Iwanted to go to the hop that evening very much. Visions of itfloated before me; snatches of music and gleams of light;figures moving in harmony; words, and looks; and — my ownwhite little person. All these made a kind of quaint mosaicwith flashes of light on the river, and broad warm bands ofsunshine on the hills, and the foliage of trees and bushes, and the grey lichened rocks at my foot. It was confusing; butI turned over the leaves of my Bible to see if I could findsome undoubted direction as to what I ought to do, or perhapsrather some clear permission for what I wished to do. I couldnot remember that the Bible said anything about dancing, _pro_or _con_; dancing, I thought, could not be wrong; but thisconfusion in my mind was not right. I fluttered over my leavesa good while with no help; than I thought I might as well takea chapter somewhere and study it through. The whole chapter, it was the third of Colossians, did not seem to me to gofavourably for my pleasure; but the seventeenth verse broughtme to a point, — "Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all inthe name of the Lord Jesus. "

There was no loophole here for excuses or getting off, "_Whatsoever ye do_. " Did I wish it otherwise? No, I did not. Iwas content with the terms of service; but now about dancing, or rather the dancing party? "In the name of the Lord Jesus. "Could I go there in that name? as the servant of my Master, busy about His work, or taking pleasure that He had given meto take? That was the question. And all my visions of gaywords and gay scenes, all the flutter of pleased vanity andthe hope of it, rose up and answered me. By that thought ofthe pretty dress I would wear, I knew I should not wear it "inthe name of the Lord Jesus;" for my thought was of honour tomyself, not to Him. By the fear which darted into my head, that Mr. Thorold might dance with Faustina if I were notthere, I knew I should not go "in the name of the Lord, " if Iwent; but to gratify my own selfish pride and emulation. Bythe confusion which had reigned in my brain these two days, bythe tastelessness of my Bible, by the unaptness for prayer, Iknew, I knew, I could not go in the name of my Lord, for itwould be to unfit myself for his work. 

The matter was settled in one way; but the pain of it tooklonger to come to an end. It is sorrowful to me to remembernow how hard it was to get over. My vanity I was heartilyashamed of, and bade that show its head no more; my emulationof Faustina St. Clair gave me some horror; but the pleasure, —the real honest pleasure, of the scene and the music and theexcitement and the dancing and the seeing people, — all that, I did not let go forever without a hard time of sorrow andsome tears. It was not a _struggle_, for I gave that up at once;only I had to fight pain. — It was one of the hardest things Iever did in my life. And the worst of all and the, mostincurable was, I should miss seeing Mr. Thorold. One or twomore walks, possibly, I might have with him; but those long, short, evenings of seeing and talking and dancing!

Mrs. Sandford argued, coaxed, and rallied me; and then said, if I would not go, she should not; and she did not. Thatevening we spent at home together, and alone; for everybodyelse had drifted over to the hop. I suppose Mrs. Sandfordfound it dull; for the next hop night she changed her mind andleft me. I had rather a sorrowful evening. Dr. Sandford hadnot come back from the mountains; indeed I did not wish forhim; and Thorold had not been near us for several days. Myfairyland was getting disenchanted a little bit. But I wasquite sure I had done right. 

The next morning I had hardly been three minutes on my rock bythe river, when Mr. Thorold came round the turn of the walkand took a seat beside me. 

"How do you do?" said he, stretching out his hand. I put minein it. 

"What has become of my friend, this seven years?"

"I am here —" I said. 

"I see you. But why have I not _seen_ you, all this while?"

"I supposed you had been busy, " I answered. 

"Busy! Of course I have, or I should have been here askingquestions. I was not too busy to dance with you; and I waspromised — how many dances? Where have you been?"

"I have been at home. "

"Why?"

Would Mr. Thorold understand me? Mrs. Sandford did not. My ownmother never did. I hesitated, and he repeated his question, and those hazel eyes were sparkling all sorts of queriesaround me. 

"I have given up going to the hops, " I said. 

"Given up? Do you mean, you _don't_ mean, that you are nevercoming any more?"

"I am not coming any more. "

"Don't you sometimes change your decisions?"

"I suppose I do, " I answered; "but not this one. "

"I am in a great puzzle, " he said. "And very sorry. Aren't yougoing to be so good as to give me some clue to this mystery?Did you find the hops so dull?"

And he looked very serious indeed. 

"O no! —" I said. "I liked them very much — I enjoyed themvery much. I am sorry to stay away. "

"Then you will not stay away very long. "

"Yes — I shall. "

"Why?" — he asked again, with a little sort of imperativecuriosity which was somehow very pleasant to me. 

"I do not think it is right for me to go, " I said. Then, seeing grave astonishment and great mystification in his face, I added, "I am a Christian, Mr. Thorold. "

"A Christian!" he cried, with flashes of light and shadowcrossing his brow. "Is _that_ it?"

"That is it, " I assented. 

"But, my dear Miss Randolph — you know we are friends?"

"Yes, " I said, smiling, and glad that he had not forgotten it. 

"Then we may talk about what we like. Christians go to hops. "

I looked at him without answering. 

"Don't you know they do?"

"I suppose they may, " — I answered slowly. 

"But they _do_. There was our former colonel's wife — Mrs. Holt;she was a regular church-goer, and a member of the church; shewas always at the hop, and her sister; they are both churchmembers. Mrs. Lambkin, General Lambkin's wife, she is another. Major Banks's sisters — those pretty girls, — they are alwaysthere; and it is the same with visitors. Everybody comes;their being Christians does not make any difference. "

"Captain Thorold, " said I, — "I mean Mr. Thorold, don't youobey your orders?"

"Yes — generally, " he said. And he laughed. 

"So must I. "

"You are not a soldier. "

"Yes — I am. "

"Have you got orders not to come to our hop?"

"I think I have. You will not understand me, but this is whatI mean, Mr. Thorold. I _am_ a soldier, of another sort from you;and I have orders not to go anywhere that my Captain does notsend me or where I cannot be serving Him. "

"I wish you would show those orders to me. "

I gave him the open page which I had been studying, that samechapter of Colossians, and pointed out the words. He looked atthem, and turned over the page, and turned it back. 

"I don't see the orders, " he said. 

I was silent. I had not expected he would. 

"And I was going to say, I never saw any Christians that weresoldiers; but I have, one. And so you are another?" And hebent upon me a look so curiously considering, tender, andwondering, at once, that I could not help smiling. 

"A soldier!" said he, again, — "You? Have you ever been underfire?"

I smiled again, and then, I don't know what it was. I cannottell what, in the question and in the look, touched some weakspot. The question called up such sharp answers; the lookspoke so much sympathy. It was very odd for me to do; but Iwas taken unawares; my eyes fell and filled, and before Icould help it were more than full. I do not know, to this day, how — I came to cry before Thorold. It was very soon over, myweakness, whatever it was. It seemed to touch him amazingly. He got hold of my hand, put it to his lips, and kissed it overand over, outside and inside. 

"I can see it all in your face!" he said, tenderly; "thestrength and the truth to do anything, and bear — whatever isnecessary. But I am not so good as you. I cannot bear anythingunless it _is_ necessary; and this isn't. "

"Oh, no, nor I!" I said; "but this is necessary, Mr. Thorold. "

"Prove it — come. "

"You do not see the orders, " I said; "but there they are. 'Doall in the name of the Lord Jesus. ' I cannot go to that place'in His name. ' "

"I do not think I understand what you mean, " he said, gently. "A soldier, the best that ever lived, is his own man when heis off duty. We go to the hop to play — not to work. "

"Ah, but a soldier of Christ is never 'off duty, ' " I said. "See, Mr. Thorold — '_whatsoever_ ye do' — 'whether ye eat ordrink or whatsoever ye do' — That covers all; don't you see?"

"That would make it a very heavy thing to be a Christian, " hesaid; "there would be no liberty at all. "

"Oh, but it is all liberty!" I said. — "When you love Jesus. "

He looked at me so enquiringly, so inquisitively, that I wenton. 

"You do not think it hard to do things for anybody you love?"

"No, " said he. "I would like to do things for you. "

I remember I smiled at that, for it seemed to me very pleasantto hear him say it; but I went on. 

"Then you understand it, Mr. Thorold. "

"No, " said he, "I do not understand it; for there is thisdifficulty. I do not see what in the world such an innocentamusement as that we are talking of, can have to do withChristian duty, one way or another. Every Christian woman thatI know comes to it, — that is young enough; and some thataren't. "

It was very hard to explain. 

"Suppose they disobey orders, " I said slowly; — "that would beanother reason why I should obey them. "

"Of course. But do they?"

"I should, " I said. "I am not serving Christ when I am there. I am not doing the work He has given me to do. I cannot go. "

"I came down here on purpose to persuade you, " he said. 

It was not necessary to answer that, otherwise than by a look. 

"And you are unpersuadable, " he said; "unmanageable, ofcourse, by me; strong as a giant, and gentle as a snowflake. But the snowflake melts; and you — you will go up to the hotelas good a crystal as when you came down. "

This made me laugh, and we had a good laugh together, holdingeach other's hand. 

"Do you know, " said he, "I must go? There is a roll of asummons that reaches my ear, and I must be at the top of thebank in one minute and a quarter. I had no leave to be here. "

"Hadn't you?" I said. "Oh, then, go, go directly, Mr. Thorold!"

But I could not immediately release, my hand, and holding itand looking at me Thorold laughed again; his hazel eyessparkling and dancing and varying with what feelings I couldnot tell. They looked very steadily, too, till I remember minewent down, and then, lifting his cap, he turned suddenly andsprang away. I sat down to get breath and think. 

I had come to my place rather sober and sorrowful; and what apleasant morning I had had! I did not mind at all, now, my notgoing to the dances. I had explained myself to Mr. Thorold, and we were not any further apart for it, and I had had achance to speak to him about other things too. And though hedid not understand me, perhaps he would some day. The warninggong sounded before I had well got to my Bible reading. MyBible reading was very pleasant this morning, and I could notbe balked of it; so I spent over it near the whole half hourthat remained, and rushed up to the hotel in the last fiveminutes. Of course I was rather late and quite out of breath;and having no voice and being a little excited, I suppose wasthe reason that I curtseyed to Dr. Sandford, whom I met at thehead of the piazza steps. He looked at me like a man takenaback. 

"Daisy!" he exclaimed. 

"Yes, sir, " I answered. 

"Where have you come from?"

"From my study, " I said. "I have a nice place down by theriver which is my study. "

"Rather a public situation for a private withdrawing place, "said the doctor. 

"Oh, no!" said I. "At this hour —" But there I stopped andbegan again. "It is really very private. And it is thepleasantest study place I think I ever had. "

"To study what?"

I held up my book. 

"It agrees with you, " said the doctor. 

"What?" said I, laughing. 

"Daisy!" said Dr. Sandford — "I left a quiet bud of a flower afew days ago — a little demure bit of a schoolgirl, learninggeology; and I have got a young princess here, a full rose, prickles and all, I don't doubt. What has Mrs. Sandford donewith you?"

"I do not know, " said I, thinking I had better be demureagain. "She took me to the hop. "

"The hop? — How did you like that?"

"I liked it very much. "

"You did? You liked it? I did not know that you would go, withyour peculiar notions. "

"I went, " I said; "I did not know what it was. How could Ihelp liking it? But I am not going again. "

"Why not, if you liked it?"

"I am not going again, " I repeated. "Shall we have a walk tothe hills to-day, Dr. Sandford?"

"Grant!" said his sister-in-law's voice, "don't you mean thechild shall have any breakfast? What made you so late, Daisy?Come in, and talk afterwards. Grant is uneasy if he can't seeat least your shadow all the while. "

We went in to breakfast, and I took a delightful walk with Dr. Sandford afterward, back in the ravines of the hills; but Ihad got an odd little impression of two things. First, thathe, like Preston, was glad to have me give up going to thehops. I was sure of it from his air and tone of voice, and itpuzzled me; for he could not possibly have Preston's dislikeof Northerners, nor be unwilling that I should know them. Theother thing was, that he would not like my seeing Mr. Thorold. I don't know how I knew it, but I knew it. I thought — it wasvery odd — but I thought he was _jealous;_ or rather, I felt hewould be if he had any knowledge of our friendship for eachother. So I resolved he should have no such knowledge. 

Our life went on now as it had done at our first coming. Everyday Dr. Sandford and I went to the woods and hills, on aregular naturalist's expedition; and nothing is so pleasant assuch expeditions. At home, we were busy with microscopicexaminations, preparations, and studies; delightful studies, and beautiful lessons, in which the doctor was the finest ofinstructors, as I have said, and I was at least the happiestof scholars. Mrs. Sandford fumed a little, and Mr. Sandfordlaughed; but that did no harm. Everybody went to the hops, except the doctor and me; and every morning and evening, atguard-mounting and at parade, I was on the ground behind theguard tents to watch the things done and listen to the musicand enjoy all the various beauty. Sometimes I had a glimpse ofThorold; for many both of cadets and officers used to come andspeak to me and rally me on my seclusion, and endeavour totempt me out of it. Thorold did not that; he only looked atme, as if I were something to be a little wondered at butwholly approved of. It was not a disagreeable look to meet. 

"I must have it out with you, " he said one evening, when hehad just a minute to speak to me. "There is a whole world, ofthings I don't understand, and want to talk about. Let us goSaturday afternoon and take a good, long walk up to 'NumberFour' — do you like hills?"

"Yes. "

"Then let us go up there Saturday — will you?"

And when Saturday came, we went. Preston luckily was not onhand; and Dr. Sandford, also luckily, was gone to dine at theGeneral's with his brother. There were no more shadows onearth than there were clouds in the sky, as we took our wayacross the plain and along the bank in front of the officers'quarters looking north, and went out at the gate. Then we leftcivilisation and the world behind us, and plunged into a wildmountain region; going up by a track which few feet ever used, the rough slope to "Number Four. " Yet that a few feet used itwas plain. 

"Do people come here to walk, much?" I asked, as we slowlymade our way up. 

"Nobody comes here — for anything. "

"Somebody _goes_ here, " I said. "This is a beaten path. "

"Oh, there is a poor woodcutter's family at the top; they dotravel up and down occasionally. "

"It is pretty, " I said. 

"It is pretty at the top; but we are a long way from that. Isit too rough for you?"

"Not at all, " I said. "I like it. "

"You are a good walker, for a Southern girl. "

"Oh, but I have lived at the North, " I said; "I am onlySouthern born. "

Soon, however, he made me stop to rest. There was a good greyrock under the shadow of the trees; Thorold placed me on thatand threw himself on the moss at my feet. We were up so highin the world that the hills on the other side of the riverrose beautifully before us through the trees, and a sunny bitof the lower ground of the plain looked like a bit of anotherworld that we were leaving. It was a sunny afternoon and alittle hazy; every line softened, every colour made richerunder the mellowing atmosphere. 

"Now you can explain it all to me, " said Thorold, as he threwhimself down. "You have walked too fast. You are warm. "

"And you do not look as if it was warm at all. "

"I! This is nothing to me, " he said. "But perhaps it willwarm me and cool you, if we get into a talk. I wantexplanations. "

"About what, Mr. Thorold?"

"Well — if you will excuse me — about you, " he said, with avery pleasant look, frank and soft at once. 

"I am quite ready to explain myself, " I said. "But I amafraid, when I have done it, that you will not understand me, Mr. Thorold. "

"Think I cannot?" said he. 

"I am afraid not, — without knowing what I know. "

"Let us see, " said Thorold. "I want to know why you judge sodifferently from other people about the right and the wrong ofhops and such things. Somebody is mistaken — that is clear. "

"But the difficulty is, I cannot give you my point of view. "

"Please try —" said Thorold contentedly, resting his elbow ina soft cushion of moss. 

"Mr. Thorold, I told you, I am a soldier. "

"Yes, " he said, looking up at me, and little sparkles of lightseeming to come out of his hazel eyes. 

"I showed you my orders. "

"But I did not understand them to be what you said. "

"Suppose you were in an enemy's country, " I said; — "a rebelcountry; and your orders were, to do nothing which could beconstrued into encouraging the rebels, or which could helpthem to think that your king would hold friendship with them, or that there was not a perfect gulf of division between youand them. "

"But this is not such a case?" said Thorold. 

"That is only part, " I said. "Suppose your orders were, tokeep constant watch and hold yourself at every minute readyfor duty, and to go nowhere and do nothing that would unfityou for instant service, or put you off your watch. "

"But, Miss Randolph!" said Thorold, a little impatiently — "dothese little dances unfit you for duty?"

"Yes, " I said. "And put me off my watch. "

"Your watch against what? Oh, pardon me! and _please_ enlightenme. I do not mean to be impertinent. "

"I mean my watch for orders — my watch against evil. "

"Won't you explain?" said Thorold, gently and impatiently atonce. "What sort of evil can _you_ possibly fear, in connectionwith such an innocent little recreation? What sort of 'orders'are you expecting?"

I hesitated. Should I tell him? would he believe? was it bestto unveil the working of my own heart to that degree? And howcould I evade or shirk the question?

"I should not like to tell you, " I said at length, "thethoughts and feelings I found stirring in myself, after thelast time I went to the hop. I dare say they are somethingthat belongs especially to a woman, and that a man would notknow them. "

Thorold turned on me again a wonderfully gentle look, for agay fiery young Vermonter, as I knew him to be. 

"It wanted only that!" he said. — "And the orders, MissRandolph — what 'orders' are you expecting? You said, orders. "

"Orders may be given by a sign, " I said. "They need not be inwords. "

He smiled. "I see, you have studied the subject. "

"I mean, only, that whenever a duty is plainly put before me —something given me to do — I know I have 'orders' to do it. And then, Mr. Thorold, as the orders are not spoken, norbrought to me by a messenger, only made known to me by a signof some sort, — if I did not keep a good watch, I should besure to miss the sign sometimes, don't you see?"

"This is soldiership!" said Thorold. And getting up, he stoodbefore me in attitude like a soldier as he was, erect, still, with arms folded, only not up to his chin like CaptainPercival, but folded manfully. He had been watching me veryintently; now he stood as intently looking off over thefurther landscape. Methought I had a sort of pride in his fineappearance; and yet he did in no wise belong to me. Nevertheless it was pleasant to see, the firm, still attitude, the fine proportions, the military nicety of all his dress, which I had before noticed on the parade ground. For as thereis a difference between one walk and another, though alltrained; so there is a difference between one neatness andanother, though all according to regulation; and Preston neverlooked like this. 

He turned round at last, and smiled down at me. 

"Are you rested?"

"Oh, yes!" I said, rising. "I was not fatigued. "

"Are you tired talking?"

"No, not at all. Have I talked so very much?"

He laughed at that, but went on. 

"Will you be out of patience with my stupidity?"

I said no. 

"Because I am not fully enlightened yet. I want to ask furtherquestions; and asking questions is very impertinent. "

"Not if you have leave, " I said. "Ask what you like. "

"I am afraid, nevertheless. But I can never know, if I do notask. How is it — this is what puzzles me, — that other peoplewho call themselves Christians do not think as you think aboutall this matter?"

"Soldiership?" I asked. 

"Well, yes. It comes to that, I suppose. "

"You know what soldiership ought to be, " I said. 

"But one little soldier cannot be all the rank and file ofthis army?" he said, looking down at me. 

"Oh, no!" I said, laughing, — "there are a great many more, —there are a great many more, — only you do not happen to seethem. "

"And these others, that I do see, are not soldiers then?"

"I do not know, " I said, feeling sadly what a stumbling blockit was. "Perhaps. They are. But you know yourself, Mr. Thorold, there is a difference between soldiers and soldiers. "

He was silent a while, as we mounted the hill, and thensuddenly broke out again. 

"But it makes religion a slavery — a bondage — to be _all_ thewhile under arms, on guard, watching orders. _Always_ on thewatch and expecting to be under fire — it is too much; itwould make a gloomy, ugly life of it. "

"But suppose you _are_ under fire?" I said. 

"What?" said he, looking and laughing again. 

"If you are a good soldier in an enemy's country, always withwork to do; will you wish to be off your guard, or off duty?"

"But what a life!" said Thorold. 

"If you love your Captain?" said I. 

He stopped and looked at me with one of the keenest looks ofscrutiny I ever met. It seemed to scrutinise not me only, butthe truth. I thought he was satisfied; for he turned awaywithout adding anything more at that time. His mind was atwork, however; for he broke down a small branch in his way andbusied himself with it in sweeping the trunks of the trees aswe went by; varying the occupation with a careful clearingaway of all stones and sticks that would make my path rougherthan it need be. Finally, giving me his hand to help me springover a little rivulet that crossed our way. 

"Here is an incongruity, now I think of it, " said he, smiling. "How is it that you can be on such good terms with a rebel?Ought you to have anything to do with me?"

"I may be friends with anybody in his private capacity, " Ianswered in the same tone. "That does not compromise anything. It is only when — You know what I mean. "

"When they are assembled for doubtful purposes. "

"Or gathered in a place where the wrong colours aredisplayed, " I added. "I must not go there. "

"There was no false banner hung out on the Academic Buildingthe other night, " he said humorously. 

But I knew my King's banner was not either. I knew, people didnot think of Him there, nor work for Him, and would have beenvery much surprised to hear any one speak of Him. Say it wasinnocent amusement; people did not want Him with them there;and where He was not, I did not wish to be. But I could nottell all this to Mr. Thorold. He was not contented, however, without an answer. 

"How was it?" he asked. 

"You cannot understand me, " I said, "and you may laugh at me. "

"Why may I not understand you?" he said gently, with theutmost deference of manner. 

"I suppose, because you do not understand something else, " Isaid; "and you cannot, Mr. Thorold, until you know what thelove of Jesus is, and what it is to care for His honour andHis service more than for anything else in the world. "

"But are they compromised?" he asked. "That is the thing. Yousee, I want you back at the hop. "

"I would like to come, " said I; "but I must not. "

"On the ground —?"

"I told you, Mr. Thorold. I do not find that my orders allowme to go there. I must do nothing that I cannot do in myKing's name. "

"That is —"

"As His servant — on His errands — following where He leadsme. "

"I never heard it put so before, " said Thorold. "It bears thestamp of perfection — only an impossible perfection. "

"No —" said I. 

"To ordinary mortals, " he rejoined, with one of his quickbrilliant flashes of the eye. Then as it softened and changedagain, —

"Miss Randolph, permit me to ask a not irrelevant question —Are you happy?"

And with the inquiry came the investigating look, keen as arazor or a rifle ball. I could meet it though; and I told him, it was _this_ made me happy. For the first time his face wastroubled. He turned it from me and dropped the conversation. Ilet it drop too; and we walked side by side and silently theremainder of the steep way; neither of us, I believe, payingmuch attention to what there was to be seen below or aroundus. At the top however this changed. We found a good place torest, and sat there a long time looking at the view; Thoroldpointing out its different features, and telling me about themin detail; his visits to them, and exploration of the regiongenerally. And we planned imaginary excursions together; oneespecially to the top of the Crow's Nest, with an imaginaryparty, to see the sun rise. We would have to go up of courseover night; we must carry a tent along for shelter, and campbeds, and cooking utensils, at least a pot to boil coffee; andplenty of warm wraps and plenty of provisions, for peoplealways eat terribly in cold regions, Thorold said. Andalthough the top of the Crow's Nest is not Arctic by anymeans, still it is cool enough even in a warm day, and wouldbe certainly cool at night. Also the members of our party wedebated; they must be people of good tempers and travellinghabits, not to be put out for a little; people with largetastes for enjoyment, to whom the glory of the morning wouldmake amends for all the toil of the night; and good talkers, to keep up the tone of the whole thing. Meanwhile, Thorold andI heartily enjoyed Number Four; as also I did his explanationsof fortifications, which I drew from him and made him apply toall the fortifications in sight or which I knew. And when thesun's westing told us it was time to go home, we went down allthe way talking. I have but little remembrance of the path. The cool bright freshness of the light in the trees, and itsbrilliant gleams in the distance after it had left ourhillside, — I remember that. I have an impression of the calmclear beauty that was under foot and overhead, that afternoon;but I saw it only as I could see it while giving my thought tosomething else. Sometimes, holding hands, we took runs downthe mountain side; then walked demurely again when we got toeasier going. We had come to the lower region at last and werenot far from the gate, talking earnestly and walking closetogether, when I saw Thorold touch his cap. I do not know whatmade me ask, "Was that anybody I knew?". 

"I believe it was your friend Dr. Sandford, " he said, smilinginto my face with a smile of peculiar expression and peculiarbeauty. I saw something had pleased him, pleased him verymuch. It could not have been Dr. Sandford. I cannot say I waspleased, as I had an intuitive assurance the doctor was not. But Thorold's smile almost made amends. 

That evening the doctor informed us he had got intelligencewhich obliged him to leave the Point immediately; and as hecould go with us part of the way to Niagara, we had better allset off together. I had lost all my wish to go to Niagara; butI said nothing. Mrs. Sandford said there was nothing to begained by staying at the Point any longer, as I would not goto the hops. So Monday morning we went away. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

SOUTH AND NORTH. 

We made a round of pleasure after leaving West Point. That is, it was a round of pleasure to the rest of the party. I hadleft my best pleasure behind me. Certainly I enjoyed Catskill, and Trenton Falls, and Niagara, after some sort; but there wasnothing in them all like my walk to Number Four. West Pointhad enough natural beauty to satisfy; any one, I thought, evenfor all summer; and there I had besides what I had notelsewhere and never had before, a companion. All my earlierfriends were far older than I, or beneath me in station. Preston was the single exception; and Preston and I were nowwidely apart in our sympathies; indeed always had been. Mr. Thorold and I talked to each other on a level; we understoodeach other and suited each other. I could let out my thoughtsto him with a freedom I never could use with anybody else. 

It grieved me a little that I had been forced to come away soabruptly that I had no chance of letting him know. Courtesy, Ithought, demanded of me that I should have done this; and Icould not do it; and this was a constant subject of regret tome. 

At the end of our journey I came back to school. Letters frommy father and mother desired that I would do so, and appointedthat I was to join them abroad next year. My mother haddecided that it was best not to interfere with the regularcourse of my education; and my father renewed his promise thatI should have any reward I chose to claim, to comfort me forthe delay. So I bent myself to study with new energies and newhope. 

I studied more things than school books that winter. The bitsof political matter I had heard talked over at West Point wereby no means forgotten; and once in a while, when I had timeand a chance, I seized one of the papers from Mme. Ricard'slibrary table and examined it. And every time I did so, something urged me to do it again. I was very ignorant. I hadno clue to a great deal that was talked of in these prints;but I could perceive the low threatening growl of coming illweather, which seemed to rise on the ear every time Ilistened. And a little anxiety began to grow up in my mind. Mme. Ricard, of course, never spoke on these subjects andprobably did not care about them. Dr. Sandford was safe inWashington. I once asked Miss Cardigan what she thought. "There are evil men abroad, dear, " she said. "I don't knowwhat they will be permitted to do. "

"Who do you hope will be elected?" I asked. 

"I don't vote myself, " said Miss Cardigan; "so I do not fashmyself much with what I can't help; but I hope the man will beelected that will do the right thing. "

"And who is that?" I asked. "You do not want slavery to beallowed in the territories?"

"I? Not I!" said Miss Cardigan. "And if the people want tokeep it out of them, I suppose they will elect AbrahamLincoln. I don't know if he is the right man or no; but he ison the right side. 'Break every yoke, and let the oppressed gofree. ' That is my maxim, Daisy. "

I pondered this matter by turns more and more. By and by therebegan to be audible mutterings of a storm in the air aroundme. The first I heard was when we were all together in theevening with our work, the half hour before tea. 

"Lincoln is elected" — whispered one of the girls to another. 

"Who cares?" the other said aloud. 

"What if he is?" asked a third. 

"Then, " said a gentle, graceful looking girl, spreading herembroidery out on her lap with her slim white fingers, — "_then_there'll be fighting. "

It was given, this announcement, with the coolest matter-of-fact assurance. 

"Who is going to fight?" was the next question. 

The former speaker gave a glance up to see if her audience wassafe, and then replied as coolly as before. 

"My brother, for one. "

"What for, Sally?"

"Do you think we are going to have these vulgar Northernersrule over us? My cousin Marshall is coming back from Europe onpurpose that he may be here and be ready. I know my aunt wrotehim word that she would disinherit him if he did not. "

"Daisy Randolph — you are a Southerner, " said one of thegirls. 

"Of course, she is a Southerner, " said Sally, going on withher embroidery. "She is safe. "

But if I was safe, I was very uncomfortable. I hardly knew whyI was so uncomfortable. Only, I wished ardently that troublesmight not break out between the two quarters of the country. Ihad a sense that the storm would come near home. I could notrecollect my mother and my father, without a dread that therewould be opposing electricities between them and me. 

I began to study the daily news more constantly and carefully. I had still the liberty of Mme. 's library, and the papers werealways there. I could give to them only a few minutes now andthen; but I felt that the growl of the storm was coming nearerand growing more threatening. Extracts from Southern papersseemed to me very violent and very wrong-headed; at the sametime I knew that my mother would endorse them and Prestonwould echo them. Then South Carolina passed the ordinance ofsecession. Six days after, Major Anderson took possession ofFort Sumter in Charleston Harbour, and immediately the fort hehad left and Castle Pinckney were garrisoned by the SouthCarolinians in opposition. I could not tell how much all thissignified; but my heart began to give a premonitory beatsometimes. Mississippi followed South Carolina; then UnitedStates' forts and Arsenals were seized in North Carolina andGeorgia, and Alabama, one after the other. The tone of thepress was very threatening, at least of the Southern press. And not less significant, to my ear, was the whisper Ioccasionally heard among a portion of our own littlecommunity. A secret whisper, intense in its sympathy with theseceding half of the nation, contemptuously hostile to theother part, among whom they were at that very moment receivingNorthern education and Northern kindness. The girls evenlistened and gathered scraps of conversation that passed intheir hearing, to retail them in letters sent home; "they didnot know, " they said, "what might be of use. " Later, some ofthese letters were intercepted by the General Government andsent back from Washington to Mme. Ricard. All this told memuch of the depth and breadth of feeling among the communityof which these girls formed a part; and my knowledge of my ownfather and mother, aunt Gary and Preston, and others, told memore. I began to pray that God would not let war come in theland. 

Then there was a day, in January I think, when a bit of publicnews was read out in presence of the whole family; a thingthat rarely happened. It was evening, and we were all in theparlour with our work. I forget who was the reader, but Iremember the words. " 'The steamer, "Star of the West, " withtwo hundred and fifty United States troops on board for FortSumter, was fired into' (I forget the day) 'by the batteriesnear Charleston. ' Young ladies, do you hear that? The steamerwas fired into. That is the beginning. "

We looked at each other, we girls; startled, sorry, awed, witha strange glance of defiance from some eyes, while some flowedover with tears, and some were eager with a feeling that wasnot displeasure. All were silent at first. Then whispersbegan. 

"I told you so, " said Sally. 

"Well, _they_ have begun it, " said Macy, who was a new Yorkgirl. 

"Of course. What business had the 'Star of the West' to becarrying those troops there? South Carolina can take care ofher own forts. "

"Daisy Randolph, you look as solemn as a preacher, " saidanother. "Which side are you on?"

"She is on the right side, " said another. 

"Of course, " said Sally. "She is the daughter of a Southerngentleman!"

"I am not on the side of those who fire the first shot, " Isaid. 

"There is no other way, " said Sally, coolly. "If a rat comesin your way, you must shoot him. I knew it had got to come. Ihave heard my uncle talk enough about that. "

"But what will be the end of it?" said another. 

"Pooh! it will end like smoke. The Yankees do not likefighting — they would rather be excused if you please. Their_forte_ is quite in another line — out of the way of powder. "

I wondered if that was true. I thought of Thorold, and ofMajor Blunt. I was troubled; and when I went to see MissCardigan, next day, I found she could give me little comfort. 

"I don't know, my dear, " she said, "what they may be left todo. They're just daft down there; clean daft. "

"If they fight, we shall be obliged to fight, " I said, notliking to ask her about Northern courage; and, indeed, she wasa Scotswoman, and what should she know?

"Ay, just that, " she replied; "and fighting between the twoparts of one land is even the worst fighting there can be. Pray it may not come, Daisy; but those people are just daft. "

The next letters from my mother spoke of my coming out to themas soon as the school year should be over. The country waslikely to be disturbed, she said; and it would not suit withmy father's health to come home just now. As soon as theschool year should be over, and Dr. Sandford could find aproper opportunity for me to make the journey, I should come. 

I was very glad; yet I was not all glad. I wished they couldhave come to me rather. I was not, I hardly knew why I wasnot, quite ready to quit America while these troublesthreatened. And as days went on, and the cloud grew blacker, my feeling of unwillingness increased. The daily prints werefull of fresh instances of the seizure of United Statesproperty, of the secession of new States; then the SecessionCongress met, and elected Jefferson Davis and AlexanderStephens their President and Vice President; and rebellion wasduly organised. 

Jefferson Davis! How the name took me back to the summerparade on the West Point plain, and my first view of thatsmooth, sinister, ill-conditioned face. Now he was headingrebellion. Where would Dr. Sandford, and Mr. Thorold, andPreston be? How far would the rebels carry their work? andwhat opposition would be made to it? Again I asked MissCardigan. 

"It's beyond _me_, Daisy, " she said. "I suppose it will dependvery much on whether we've got the right man to head us or no;and that nobody can tell till we try. This man Buchanan, thatis over us at present, he is no better than a bit of cottonwool. I am going to take a look at Mr. Lincoln as he comesthrough, and see what I think of him. 

"When is he coming?"

"They say, to-day, " said Miss Cardigan. "There'll be anuncommon crowd; but I'll risk it. "

A great desire seized me, that I might see him too. Iconsulted with Miss Cardigan. School hours were over at three;I could get away then, I thought; and by studying theprogramme of the day we found it possible that it would not betoo late then for our object. So it proved; and I have alwaysbeen glad of it ever since. 

Miss Cardigan and I went forth and packed ourselves in thedense crowd which had gathered and filled all the way by whichthe President elect was expected to pass. A quiet and orderlyand most respectable crowd it was. Few Irish, few of themiserable of society, who come out only for a spectacle; thesewere the yeomanry and the middle classes, men of business, menof character and some substance, who were waiting like us, tosee what promise for the future there might be in the aspectof our new Chief. Waiting patiently; and we could only waitpatiently like them. I thought of Preston's indignation if hecould have seen me, and Dr. Sandford's ready negative on mybeing there, but well were these thoughts put to flight whenthe little cavalcade for which we were looking hove in sightand drew near. Intense curiosity and then profoundsatisfaction seized me. The strong, grave, kindly lineamentsof the future Head of the Country, gave me instantly a feelingof confidence, which I never lost in all the time thatfollowed. That was confidence in his honesty and goodness; butanother sort of trust was awakened by the keen, searching. Shrewd glances of those dark eyes, which seemed to penetratethe masses of human intelligences surrounding him, and seek toknow what manner of _material_ he might find them at need. Hewas not thinking of himself, that was plain; and the homely, expressive features got a place in my heart from that time. The little cavalcade passed on from us; the crowd melted away, and Miss Cardigan and I came slowly again up Fifth Avenue. 

"Yon's a mon!" quoth Miss Cardigan, speaking as she did inmoments of strong feeling, with a little reminder of herScottish origin. 

"Didn't you like him?" I rejoined. 

"I always like a man when I see him, " said my friend. "He hadneed be that too, for, he has got a man's work to do. "

And it soon appeared that she spoke true. I watched everyaction, and weighed every word of Mr. Lincoln now, with astrange interest. I thought great things depended on him. Iwas glad when he determined to send supplies into Fort Sumter. I was sure that he was right; but I held my breath as it wereto see what South Carolina would do. The twelfth of April toldus. 

"So they have done it, Daisy!" said Miss Cardigan, thatevening. "They are doing it, rather. They have been firing ateach other all day. "

"Well, Major Anderson must defend his fort, " I said. "That ishis duty. "

"No doubt, " said Miss Cardigan; "but you look pale, Daisy, mybairn. You are from those quarters yourself. Is there anybodyin that neighbourhood that is dear to you?"

I had the greatest difficulty not to burst into tears, by wayof answer, and Miss Cardigan looked concerned at me. I toldher there was nobody there I cared for, except some poorcoloured people who were in no danger. 

"There'll be many a sore heart in the country if this goeson, " she said, with a sigh. 

"But it will not go on, will it?" I asked. "They cannot takeFort Sumter, do you think so?"

"I know little about it, " said my friend, soberly. "I am nosoldier. And we never know what is best, Daisy. We must trustthe Lord, my dear, to unravel these confusions. "

And the next night the little news-boys in the streets werecrying out the "Fall of Fort Sum — ter!" It rang ominously inmy heart. The rebels had succeeded so far; and they would goon. Yes, they would go on now, I felt assured; unless somevery serious check should be given them. Could the Yankeesgive that? I doubted it. Yet _their_ cause was the cause ofright, and justice, and humanity; but the right does _not_always at first triumph, whatever it may do in the end; andgood swords, and good shots, and the spirit of a soldier, arethings that are allowed to carry their force with them. I knewthe South had these. What had the North?

Even in our school seclusion, we felt the breath of thetremendous excitement which swayed the public mind next day. Not bluster, nor even passion, but the stir of the people'sheart. As we walked to church, we could hear it in half-caughtwords of those we passed by, see it in the grave, intense airwhich characterised groups and faces; feel it in theatmosphere, which was heavy with indignation and gatheringpurpose. It was said, no Sunday like that had been known inthe city. Within our own little community, if parties ranhigh, they were like those outside, quiet; but when alone, theSouthern girls testified an exultation that jarred painfullyupon my ears. 

"Daisy don't care. "

"Yes, I care, " I said. 

"For shame not to be glad! You see, it is glorious. We have itall our own way. The impertinence of trying to hold our fortsfor us!"

"I don't see anything glorious in fighting, " I said. 

"Not when you are attacked?"

"We were not attacked, " I said. "South Carolina fired thefirst guns. "

"Good for her!" said Sally. "Brave little South Carolina!Nobody will meddle with her and come off without cutting hisfingers. "

"Nobody did meddle with her, " I asserted. "It was _she_ whomeddled, to break the laws and fight against the government. "

"What government?" said Sally. "Are we slaves, that we shouldbe ruled by a government we don't choose? We will have ourown. Do you think South Carolina and Virginia _gentlemen_ aregoing to live under a rail-splitter for a President? and takeorders from him?"

"What do you mean by a 'rail-splitter'?"

"I mean this Abe Lincoln the Northern mudsills have picked upto make a President of. He used to get his living by splittingrails for a Western fence, Daisy Randolph. "

"But if he is President, he is President, " I said. 

"For those that like him. We won't have him. Jefferson Davisis my President. And all I can do to help him, I will. I can'tfight; I wish I could. My brother and my cousins and my unclewill, though, that's one comfort; and what I can do I will. "

"Then I think you are a traitor, " I said. 

I was hated among the Southern girls from that day. Hated witha bitter violent hatred, which had indeed little chance toshow itself, but was manifested in a scornful, intenseavoidance of me. The bitterness of it is surprising to me evennow. I cared not very much for it. I was too much engrossedwith deeper interests of the time, both public and private. The very next day came the President's call for seventy-fivethousand men; and the next the answer of the governor ofKentucky, that "Kentucky would furnish no troops for thewicked purpose of subduing her sister Southern States. " I sawthis in the paper in the library; the other girls had noaccess to the general daily news, or I knew there would havebeen shoutings of triumph over Governor Magoffin. Othergovernors of other States followed his example. JeffersonDavis declared in a proclamation that letters of marque andreprisal would be issued. Everything wore the aspect ofthickening strife. 

My heart grew very heavy over these signs of evil, fearing Iknew not what for those whom I cared about. Indeed, I wouldnot stop to think what I feared. I tried to bury my fears inmy work. Letters from my mother became very explicit now; shesaid that troublesome times were coming in the country, andshe would like me to be out of it. After a little while, whenthe independence of the South should be assured, we would allcome home — and be happy together. Meantime, as soon after theclose of the school year as Dr. Sandford could find a goodchance for me, I was to come out to them at Lausanne, where mymother thought they would be by that time. 

So I studied with all my strength, with the double motive ofgaining all I could and of forgetting what was going on in thepolitical World. Music and French, my mother particularlydesired that I should excel in; and I gave many hours to mypiano, as many as possible, and talked with Mlle. Genevievewhenever she would let me. And she was very fond of me andfond of talking to me; it was she who kept for me my libraryprivilege. And my voice was good, as it had promised to be. Ihad the pleasure of feeling that I was succeeding in what Imost wished to attain. It was succeeding over the heads of myschool-fellows; and that earned me wages that were notpleasant among a portion of my companions. Faustina St. Clairwas back among us; she would perhaps have forgiven if shecould have forgotten me; but my headship had been declaredever since the time of the bronze standish, and even rivalryhad been long out of the question. So the old feud was neverhealed; and now, between the unfriendliness of her party andthe defection of all the Southern girls, I was left in a greatminority of popular favour. It could not be helped. I studiedthe harder. I had unlimited favour with all my teachers, andevery indulgence I asked for. 

The news of the attack in Baltimore upon the Massachusettstroops passing through the city, and Governor Andrew'sbeautiful telegram, shook me out of my preocupation. It shookme out of all quiet for a day. Indignation, and fear, andsorrow, rolled through my heart. The passions that were astiramong men, the mad results to which they were leading, thepossible involvement of several of those whom I loved, ageneral trembling of evil in the air, made study difficult forthe moment. What signified the course and fate of nationshundreds of years ago? Our own course and fate filled thehorizon. What signified the power or beauty of my voice, whenI had not the heart to send it up and down like a bird anylonger? Where was Preston, and Dr. Sandford, and Ransom, andwhat would become of Magnolia? In truth I did not know whathad become of Ransom. I had not heard from him or of him in along time. But these thoughts would not do. I drove them away. I resolved to mind my work and not read the papers, if I couldhelp it, and not think about politics or my friends' course inthem. I could do nothing. And in a few months I should beaway, out of the land. 

I kept my resolve pretty well. Indeed, I think nothing veryparticular happened to disturb it for the next two or threeweeks. I succeeded in filling my head with work and being veryhappy in it. That is, whenever I could forget more importantthings. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

ENTERED FOR THE WAR. 

One evening, I think before the end of April, I askedpermission to spend the evening at Miss Cardigan's. I had onhand a piece of study for which I wanted to consult certainbooks which I knew were in her library. Mlle. Genevieve gaveme leave gladly. 

"You do study too persevering, m'amie, " she said. "Go, andstop to study for a little while. You are pale. I am afraidyour doctor — _ce bon Monsieur le docteur_ — will scold us allby and by. Go, and do not study. "

But I determined to have my play and my study too. 

As I passed through Miss Cardigan's hall, the parlour doorstanding half open let me see that a gentleman was with her. Not wishing to interrupt any business that might be going on, and not caring also to be bored with it myself, I passed byand went into the inner room where the books were. I wouldstudy now, I thought, and take my pleasure with my dear oldfriend by and by when she was at leisure. I found my books, and had thrown myself down on the floor with one of them; whena laugh that came from the front room laid a spell upon mypowers of study. The book fell from my hands; I sat boltupright, every sense resolved into that of hearing. What andwho had that been? I listened. Another sound of a word spoken, another slight inarticulate suggestion of laughter; and I knewwith an assured knowledge that my friend Cadet Thorold, and noother, was the gentleman in Miss Cardigan's parlour with whomshe had business. I sat up and forgot my books. The firstimpulse was to go in immediately and show myself. I can hardlytell what restrained me. I remembered that Miss Cardigan musthave business with him, and I had better not interrupt it. Butthose sounds of laughter had not been very business-like, either. Nor were they business words which came to me nextthrough the open door. I never thought or knew I waslistening. I only thought it was Thorold, and held my breathto hear, or rather to feel. My ears seemed sharpened beyondall their usual faculty. 

"And you haven't gone and fallen in love, callant, meanwhile, just to complicate affairs?" said the voice of Miss Cardigan. 

"I shall never fall in love, " said Thorold, with (I suppose)mock gravity. His voice sounded so. 

"Why not?"

"I require too much. "

"It's like your conceit!" said Miss Cardigan. "Now, what isit that you require? I would like to know; that is, if youknow yourself. It appears you have thought about it. "

"I have thought, till I have got it all by heart, " saidThorold. "The worst is, I shall never find it in this world. "

"That's likely. Come, lad, paint your picture, and I'll tellyou if _I_ know where to look, " said Miss Cardigan. 

"And then, you'll search for me?"

"I dinna ken if you deserve it, " said Miss Cardigan. 

"I don't deserve it, of course, " said Thorold. "Well — I havepainted the likeness a good many times. The first thing is apair of eyes as deep and grey as our mountain lakes. "

"I never heard that your Vermont lakes were _grey_, " said MissCardigan. 

"Oh, but they are! when the shadow of the mountains closesthem in. It is not cold grey, but purple and brown, the shadowof light as it were; the lake is in shadow. Only, if a bit ofblue _does_ show itself there, it is the very Heaven. "

"I hope it is not going to be in poetry?" said Miss Cardigan'svoice, sounding dry and amused. "What is the next thing? It isa very good picture of eyes. "

"The next thing is a mouth that makes you think of nothing butkissing it; the lines are so sweet, and so mobile, and at thesame time so curiously subdued. A mouth that has learned tosmile when things don't go right; and that has learned thelesson so well, you cannot help thinking it must have oftenknown things go wrong; to get the habit so well, you know. "

"Eh? — Why, boy!" — cried Miss Cardigan. 

"Do you know anybody like it?" said Thorold, laughing. "If youdo, you are bound to let me know where, you understand. "

"What lies between the eyes and mouth?" said Miss Cardigan. "There goes more to a picture. "

"Between the eyes and mouth, " said Thorold, "there is sense, and dignity, and delicacy, and refinement to a fastidiouspoint; and a world of strength of character in the littledelicate chin. "

"Character — _that_ shows in the mouth, " said Miss Cardiganslowly. 

"I told you so, " said Thorold. "That is what I told you. Truth, and love, and gentleness, all sit within those littlered lips; and a great strength of will, which you cannot helpthinking has borne something to try it. The brow is like oneof our snowy mountain tops with the sun shining on it. "

"And the lady's figure is like a pine tree, isn't it? Itsounds gay as if you'd fallen in love with Nature, and sopersonified and imaged her in human likeness. Is it realhumanity?"

Thorold laughed his gay laugh. "The pine-tree will doexcellently, aunt Catherine, " he said. "No better embodimentof stately grace could be found. "

My ears tingled. "Aunt Catherine?" _Aunt!_ then Thorold must beher relation, her nephew; then he was not come on business;then he would stay to tea. I might as well show myself. But, Ithought, if Thorold had some other lady so much in his mind, (for I was sure his picture must be a portrait) he would notcare so very much about seeing me, as I had at first fanciedhe would. However, I could not go away; so I might as well goin; it would not do to wait longer. The evening had quitefallen now. It was April, as I said, but a cold raw springday, and had been like that for several days. Houses werechill; and in Miss Cardigan's grate a fine fire of Kennalcoals was blazing, making its red illumination all over theroom and the two figures who sat in front of it. She had had agrate put in this winter. There was no other light, only thatsoft red glow and gloom, under favour of which I went in andstood almost beside them before they perceived me. I did notspeak to Miss Cardigan. I remember my words were, "How do youdo, Mr. Thorold?" — in a very quiet kind of a voice; for I didnot now expect him to be very glad. But I was surprised at thechange my words made. He sprang up, his eyes flashing a sortof shower of sparks over me, gladness in every line of hisface, and surprise, and a kind of inexpressible deference inhis manner. 

"Daisy!" — he exclaimed — "Miss Randolph!"

"Daisy!" echoed Miss Cardigan. "My dear! — do you two knoweach other? Where did you come from?"

I think I did not answer. I am sure Thorold did not. He wascaring for me, placing his chair nearer his aunt and puttingme into it, before he let go the hand he had taken. Then, drawing up another chair on the other side of me, he sat downand looked at me (I thought afterward, I only felt at themoment) as if I had been some precious wonder; the Koh-i-noordiamond, or anything of that sort. 

"Where did you come from?" was his first question. 

"I have been in the house a little while, " I said. "I thoughtat first Miss Cardigan had somebody with her on business, so Iwould not come in. "

"It is quite true, Daisy, " said Miss Cardigan; "it is somebodyon business. "

"Nothing private about it, though, " said Thorold, smiling atme. "But where in the world did you and aunt Catherine cometogether?"

"And what call have ye to search into it?" said MissCardigan's good-humoured voice. "I know a great many bodies, callant, that you know not. "

"I know this one though, " said Thorold. "Miss Randolph — won'tyou speak? for aunt Catherine is in no mood to let me. — Haveyou two known each other long?"

"It seems long, " I said. "It is not very long. "

"Since before last summer?"

"Certainly!"

"If that's the date of _your_ acquaintanceship, " said MissCardigan, "we're auld friends to that. Is all well, Daisy?"

"All quite well, ma'am. I came to do a bit of study I wantedin your books, and to have a nice time with you, besides. "

"And here is this fellow in the way. But we cannot turn himout, Daisy; he is going fast enough; on what errand, do youthink, is he bent?"

_I_ had not thought about it till that minute. Something, somethread of the serious, in Miss Cardigan's voice made me looksuddenly at Thorold. He had turned his eyes away from me andhad bent them upon the fire, all merriment gone out of hisface too. It was thoroughly grave. 

"What are you going to do, Mr. Thorold?" I asked. 

"Do you remember a talk we had down on Flirtation walk one daylast summer, when you asked me about possible politicalmovements at the South, and I asked you what you would do?"

"Yes, " I said, my heart sinking. 

"The time has come, " he said, facing round upon me. 

"And you —"

"I shall be on my way to Washington in a few days. Men arewanted now — all the men that have any knowledge to be useful. I may not be very useful. But I am going to try. "

"I thought, " — it was not quite easy to speak, for I wasstruggling with something which threatened to roughen myvoice, — "I thought, you did not graduate till June?"

"Not regularly; not usually; but things are extraordinary thisyear. We graduate and go on to Washington at once. "

I believe we were all silent a few minutes. 

"Daisy, " said Miss Cardigan, "you have nobody that is dear to_you_, likely to be engaged in the fray — if there is one?"

"I don't know, —" I said, rather faintly. I remember I saidit; I cannot tell why, for I _did_ know. I knew that Preston andRansom were both likely to be in the struggle, even if Ransomhad been at the moment at the opposite side of the world. Butthen Thorold roused up and began to talk. He talked to divertus, I think. He told us of things that concerned himself andhis class personally, giving details to which we listenedeagerly; and he went on from them to things and people in thepublic line, of which and of whom neither Miss Cardigan nor Ihad known the thousandth part so much before. We sat andlistened, Miss Cardigan often putting in a question, while thewarm still glow of the firelight shed over us and all the roomits assurance of peace and quiet, woven and compounded oflife-long associations. Thorold sat before us and talked, andwe looked at him and listened in the fire-shine; and mythoughts made swift sideway flights every now and then fromthis peace and glow of comfort, and from Thorold's talk, tothe changes of the camp, and the possible coming strife;spectres of war, guns and swords, exposure and wounds — andsickness — and the battlefield — what could I tell? and MissCardigan's servant put another lump of coal on the fire, andThorold presently broke it, and the jet of illumination sprangforth, mocking and yet revealing in its sweet home glow myvisions of terror. They were but momentary visions; I couldnot bear of course to look steadily at them; they werespectres that came and went with a wave of a hand, in a jet offlame, or the shadow of an opening door; but they went, andcame; and I saw many things in Thorold's face that nightbeside the manly lines of determination and spirit, the lookof thought and power, and the hover of light in his eye whenit turned to me. I don't know what Miss Cardigan saw; butseveral times in the evening I heard her sigh; a thing veryunusual and notable with her. Again and again I heard it, asoft long breath. 

I gave it no heed at the time. My eyes and thoughts were fixedon the other member of the party; and I was like one in adream. I walked in a dream; till we went into the other roomto tea, and I heard Miss Cardigan say, addressing her nephew, —

"Sit there, Christian. "

I was like one in a dream, or I should have known what thismeant. I did know, two minutes afterwards. But at the moment, falling in with some of my thoughts, the word made me startand look at Thorold. I cannot tell what was in my look; I knowwhat was in my heart; the surprised inquiry and the yearningwish. Thorold's face flushed. He met my eyes with an intenserecognition and inquiry in his own, and then, I am almostsure, his were dim. He set my chair for me at the table, andtook hold of me and put me in it with a very gentle touch thatseemed to thank me. 

"That is my name, Miss Randolph, " he said, — "the name givenme by my parents. "

"You'll earn it yet, boy, " said Miss Cardigan. "But the soonerthe better. "

There was after that a very deep gravity upon us all for thefirst minutes at table. I wondered to myself, how people cango on drinking tea and eating bread and butter througheverything; yet they must, and even I was doing it at themoment, and not willing to forego the occupation. By degreesthe wonted course of things relieved our minds, which wereupon too high a strain. It appeared that Thorold was veryhungry, having, missed his dinner somehow; and his auntordered up everything in the house for his comfort, in which Isuppose she found her own. And then Thorold made me eat withhim. I was sure I did not want it, but that made nodifference. Things were prepared for me and put upon my plate, and a soft little command laid on me to do with them what Iwas expected to do. It was not like the way Dr. Sandford usedto order me, nor in the least like Preston's imperiousnesswhich I could withstand well enough; there was something in itwhich nullified all my power and even will to resist, and Iwas as submissive as possible. Thorold grew very bright againas the meal went on, and began to talk in a somewhat livelierstrain than he had been in before tea; and I believe he didwile both his aunt and me out of the sad or grave thoughts wehad been indulging. I know that I was obliged to laugh, as Iwas obliged to eat. Thorold had his own way, and seemed tolike it. Even his aunt was amused and interested, and grewlively, like herself. With all that, through the whole supper-time I had an odd feeling of her being on one side; it seemedto be only Thorold and I really there; and in all Thorold wasdoing and through all he was talking, I had a curious sensethat he was occupied only with me. It was not that he said somuch directly to me or looked so much at me; I do not know howI got the feeling. There was Miss Cardigan at the head of thetable, busy and talking as usual, clever and kind; yet the airseemed to be breathed only by Thorold and me. 

"And how soon, lad, " Miss Cardigan broke out suddenly, when amoment's lull in the talk had given her a chance, "how soonwill ye be off to that region of disturbance whither ye aregoing?"

"Washington?" said Thorold. "Just as soon as our examinationcan be pushed through; — in a very few days now. "

"You'll come to me by the way, for another look at you, inyour officer's uniform?"

"Uniform? nobody will have any uniform, I fancy, " saidThorold, "nobody has any time to think of that. No, auntCatherine, and I shall not see you, either. I expect we shallrush through without the loss of a train. I can't stop. Idon't care what clothes I wear to get there. "

"How came you to be here now, if you are in such a hurry?"

"Nothing on earth would have brought me, but the thing thatdid bring me, " said Thorold. "I was subpoenaed down, to givemy evidence in a trial. I must get back again without loss ofa minute; should have one to-night, if there had been a trainthat stopped. I am very glad there was no train that stopped!"

We were all silent for a minute; till the door bell rang, andthe servant came announcing Mr. Bunsen, to see Miss Cardiganabout the tenant houses. Miss Cardigan went off through theopen doors that led to the front parlour; and standing by thefire, I watched her figure diminishing in the long distancetill it passed into Mr. Bunsen's presence and disappeared. Mr. Thorold and I stood silently on either side of the hearth, looking into the fire, while the servant was clearing thetable. The cheerful, hospitable little table, round which wehad been so cheerful at least for the moment, was dismantledalready, and the wonted cold gleam of the mahogany seemed totell me that cheer was all over. The talk of the uniform hadoverset me. All sorts of visions of what it signified, what itportended, where it would go, what it would be doing, wereknocking at the door of my heart, and putting their heads in. Before tea these visions had come and vanished; often enough, to be sure; now they came and stayed. I was very quiet, I amcertain of that; I was as certainly very sober, with a greatand growing sadness at my heart. I think Thorold was grave, too, though I hardly looked at him. We did not speak to eachother, all the time the servant was busy in the room. We stoodsilent before the fire. The study I had come to do had allpassed away out of my mind, though the books were within threefeet of me. I was growing sadder and sadder every minute. 

"Things have changed, since we talked so lightly last summerof what might be, " — Thorold said at last. — And he said it ina meditative way, as if he were pondering something. 

"Yes" — I assented. 

"The North does not wish for war. The South have brought itupon themselves. "

"Yes" — I said again; wondering a little what was coming. 

"However disagreeable my duty may be, it is my duty; and thereis no shirking it. "

"No, " I said. "Of course. "

"And if your friends are on one side and I on the other, — itis not my fault, Miss Randolph. "

"No, " I said; "not at all. "

"Then you do not blame me for taking the part I _must_ take?"

"No, " I said. "You must take it. "

"Are you sorry I take it?" said Thorold with a change of tone, and coming a step nearer. 

"Sorry?" I said; and I looked up for an instant. "No; howcould I be sorry? It is your duty. It is right. " But as Ilooked down again I had the greatest difficulty not to burstinto tears. I felt as though my heart would break in two withits burden of pain. It cost a great effort to stand still andquiet, without showing anything. 

"What is it then?" said Thorold; and with the next words Iknew he had come close to my side and was stooping his headdown to my face, while his voice dropped. "What is it, Daisy?— Is it — Oh, Daisy, I love you better than anything else inthe world, except my duty; — Daisy, do you love me?"

Nothing could have been more impossible to me, I think, thanto answer a word; but, indeed, Thorold did not seem to wantit. As he questioned me, he had put his arm round me and drawnme nearer and nearer, stooping his face to me, till his lipstook their own answer at mine; indeed took answer afteranswer, and then, in a sort of passion of mute joy, kissed myface all over. I could not forbid him; between excitement andsorrow and happiness and shame, I could do nothing; the best Icould do was to hide my face, but the breast of that grey coatwas a strange hiding-place for it. With that inconsistentmingling of small things with great in one's perceptions, which everybody knows, I remember the soft feel of the finegrey cloth along with the clasp of Thorold's arms and thetouch of his cheek resting upon my hair. And we stood so, quite still, for what seemed both a long and a short time, inwhich I think happiness got the upper hand with me, and painfor the moment was bid into the background. At last Thoroldraised his head and bade me, lift up mine. 

"Look up, darling, " he said; "look up, Daisy! let me see yourface. Look up, Daisy — we have only a minute, and everythingin the world to say to each other. Daisy — I want to see you. "

I think it was one of the most difficult little things I everhad in my life to do, to raise my face and let him look at it;but I knew it must be done, and I did it. One glance at his Iventured. He was smiling at me; there was a flush upon hischeek; his eye had a light in it, and with that a glow oftenderness which was different from anything I had ever seen;and it was glittering too, I think, with another sort ofsuffusion. His hand came smoothing down my hair and thentouching my cheek while he looked at me. 

"What are you going to do with yourself now?" he said softly. 

"I am going on with my studies for another month or two. "

"And you belong to me, Daisy?"

"Yes. "

He bent his head and kissed my brow. There is an odddifference of effect between a kiss on the lips and on theforehead, or else it was a difference in the manner. Thisseemed a sort of taking possession or setting a seal; and itgave me a new feeling of something almost like awe, which Ihad never associated with the grey coat or with its wearerbefore. Along with that came another impression, that Isuppose most women know, and know how sweet it is; the senseof an enveloping protection. Not that I had not been protectedall my life; but my mother's had been the protection ofauthority; my father's also, in some measure; Dr. Sandford'swas emphatically that of a _guardian;_ he guarded me a littletoo well. But this new thing that was stealing into my heart, with its subtle delight, was the protection of a champion; ofone who set me and mine above all other interests or claims inthe world, and who would guard me as if he were a part ofmyself, only stronger. Altogether Thorold seemed to medifferent from what he had been the last summer; there was agravity now in his face and air at times that was new and evenstern; the gravity of a man taking stern life-work upon him. Ifelt all this in a minute, while Thorold was smiling down intomy face. 

"And you will write to me?" he said. 

"Yes!"

"And I will write to you. And I belong to you, Daisy, and tono other. All I have is yours, and all that I am is yours, —after my duty; you may dispose of me, pretty one, just as youlike. _You_ would not have that put second, Daisy. "

A great yearning came over me, so great and strong that italmost took away my breath. I fancy it spoke in my eyes, forThorold's face grew very grave, I remember, as he looked atme. But I must speak it more plainly than so, at any costs, breath or no breath, and I must not wait. 

"Christian, " I whispered, — "won't you earn your right to yourname?"

He pressed his lips upon mine by way of answer first, and thengave me a quick and firm "Yes. " I certainly thought he hadfound the mouth he was talking of a little while ago. But atthat instant the sound of the distant house door closing, andthen of steps coming out from the parlour, made me know thatMiss Cardigan's business was over, and that she was returningto us. I wanted to free myself from Thorold's arm, but hewould not let me; on the contrary, held me closer, and halfturned to meet Miss Cardigan as she came in. Certainly men arevery different from women. There we stood awaiting her; and Ifelt very much ashamed. 

"Come on, aunt Catherine, " Thorold said, as she paused at thedoor, — "come in! Come in and kiss her; — this little darlingis mine. "

Miss Cardigan came in slowly. I could not look up. 

"Kiss her, aunt Catherine, " he repeated; "she is mine. "

And to my great dismay he set her the example; but I think itwas partly to reassure me, and cover my confusion, which hesaw. 

"I have kissed Daisy very often before now, " said MissCardigan. I thought I discerned some concern in her voice. 

"Then come, do it again, " said Thorold, laughing. "You neverkissed her as anything belonging to me, aunt Catherine. "

And he fairly laid me in Miss Cardigan's arms, till we kissedeach other as he desired. But Miss Cardigan's gravity rousedme out of my confusion. I was not ashamed before her; onlybefore him. 

"Now, aunt Catherine, " he said, pulling up a comfortablearmchair to the corner of the hearth, — "sit there. And Daisy, — come here!"

He put me into the fellow chair; and then built up the wood inthe fireplace till we had a regular illumination. Then drewhimself up before the fire, and looked at his aunt. 

"It's like you!" broke out Miss Cardigan. "Ever since you wereborn, I think, you did what you liked, and had what you liked;and threw over everything to get at the best. "

"On the contrary, " said Thorold, "I was always of a verycontented disposition. "

"Contented with your own will, then, " said his aunt. "And now, do you mean to tell me that you have got this prize — thisprize — it's a first-class, Christian — for good and forcertain to yourself?"

I lifted my eyes one instant, to see the sparkles in Thorold'seyes; they were worth seeing. 

"You don't think you deserve it?" Miss Cardigan went on. 

"I do not think I deserve it, " said Thorold. "But I think Iwill. "

"I know what that means, " said his aunt. "You will get worldlyglory — just a bit or two more of gold on your coat — to matchyou with one of the Lord's jewels, that are to be 'allglorious within;' and you think that will fit you to own her. "

"Aunt Catherine, " said Thorold, "I do not precisely thinkthat gold lace is glory. But I mean that I will do my duty. Aman can do no more. "

"Some would have said, 'a man can do no less, ' " said MissCardigan, turning to me. "But you are right, lad; more thanour duty we can none of us do; where _all_ is owing, less willnot be overpay. But whatever do you think her father will sayto you?"

"I will ask him, when the time comes, " said Thorold, contentedly. His tone was perfect; both modest and manly. Truth to say, I could not quite share his content, in lookingforward to the time he spoke of; but that was far ahead, andit was impossible not to share his confidence. My father andmy mother had been practically not my guardians during six anda half long years; I had got out of the habit of looking firstto them. 

"And what are you going to do now in Washington?" said hisaunt. "You may as weel sit down and tell us. "

"I don't know. Probably I shall be put to drill new recruits. All these seventy-five thousand men that the President hascalled for, won't know how to handle a gun or do anythingelse. "

"And what is he going to do with these seventy-fire thousandmen, Christian?"

"Put down treason, if he can. Don't you realise yet that wehave a civil war on our hands, aunt Catherine? The SouthernStates are mustering and sending their forces; we must meetthem, or give up the whole question; that is, give up theCountry. "

"And what is it that _they_ will try to do?" said Miss Cardigan. "It is a mystery to me what they want; but I suppose I know;only bad men are a mystery to me always. "

"They will try to defy the laws, " said Thorold. "We will tryto see them executed. "

"They seem very fierce, " said Miss Cardigan; "to judge by whatthey say. "

"And do, " added Thorold. "I think there is a sort of madnessin Southern blood!"

He spoke with a manner of disgustful emphasis. I looked up athim, to see an expression quite in keeping with his words. Miss Cardigan cried out, —

"Hey, lad! Ye're confident, surely, to venture your opinionsso plainly and so soon!"

His face changed, as if sunlight had been suddenly poured overit. He came kneeling on one knee before me, taking my hand andkissing it, and laughing. 

"And I see ye're not confident without reason!" added MissCardigan. "Daisy'll just let ye say your mind, and no punishyou for it. "

"But it is _true_, Miss Cardigan, " — I said, turning to her. Iwished I had held my tongue the next minute, for the wordswere taken off my lips, as it were. It is something quitedifferent from eating your own words, which I have heard of asnot pleasant; mine seemed to be devoured by somebody else. 

"But is it true they are coming to attack Washington?" MissCardigan went on, when we had all done laughing. "I read it inthe prints; and it seems to me I read every other thingthere. "

"I am afraid you read too many prints, " said Thorold. "You arethinking of 'hear both sides, ' aunt Catherine? — you must knowthere is but one side to this matter. There never are twosides to treason. "

"That's true, " said Miss Cardigan. "But about Washington, lad?I saw an extract from a letter written from that city, by alady, and she said the place was in terror; she said thePresident sleeps with a hundred men, armed, in the east room, to protect him from the Southern army; and keeps a sentinelbefore his bedroom door; and often goes clean out of the WhiteHouse and sleeps somewhere else, in his fear. "

I had never seen Thorold laugh as he did then. And he askedhis aunt "where she had seen that extract?"

"It was in one of the papers — it was in an extract; itself, I'm thinking. "

"From a Southern paper, " said Thorold. 

"Well, I believe it was. "

"I have seen extracts too, " said Thorold. "They say, AlexanderH. Stephens is counselling the rebels to lay hold onWashington. "

"Well, sit down and tell us what you do know, and how tounderstand things!" said Miss Cardigan. "I don't talk toanybody, much, about politics. "

So Thorold did as he was asked. He sat down on the other sideof me, and with my hand in his, talked to us both. We wentover the whole ground of the few months past, of the work thendoing and preparing, of what might reasonably be looked for inboth the South and the North. He said he was not very wise inthe matter; but he was infinitely more informed than we; andwe listened as to the most absorbing of all tales, till thenight was far worn. A sense of the gravity and importance ofthe crisis; a consciousness that we were embarked in a contestof the most stubborn character, the end of which no man mightforetell, pressed itself more and more on my mind as the nightand the talk grew deeper. If I may judge from the changes inMiss Cardigan's face, it was the same with her. The conclusionwas, the North was gathering and concentrating all her forcesto meet the trial that was coming; and the young officers ofthe graduating class at the Military Academy had been orderedto the seat of war a little before their time of study wasout; their help being urgently needed. 

"And where is Preston?" said I, speaking for the first timein a long while. 

"Preston?" — echoed Thorold. 

"My cousin Preston, — Gary; your classmate Gary. "

"Gary! — Oh, he is going to Washington, like the rest of us. "

"Which side will he take?"

"You should know, perhaps, better than I, " said Thorold. "Healways _has_ taken the Southern side, and very exclusively. "

"_Has_ taken?" said I. "Do you mean that among the cadets, therehas been a South and a North — until now lately?"

"Ay, Daisy, always, since I have been in the Academy. TheSouthern clique and the Northern clique have been welldefined; there is always an assumption of superiority on theone side, and some resenting of it on the other side. It wason that ground Gary and I split. "

"Split!" I repeated. 

But Thorold laughed and kissed me, and would give me nosatisfaction. I began to put things together though. I sawfrom Christian's eyes that _he_ had nothing to be ashamed of, inlooking back; I remembered Preston's virulence, and his suddenflush when somebody had repeated the word "coward, " which hehad applied to Thorold. I felt certain that more had beenbetween them than mere words, and that Preston found therecollection not flattering, whatever it was; and having cometo this settlement of the matter, I looked up at Thorold. 

"My gentle little Daisy!" he said. "I will never quarrel withhim again — if I can help it. "

"You _must_ quarrel with him, if he is on the wrong side, " Ianswered. "And so must I. "

"You say, you must go immediately back to West Point, " saidMiss Cardigan. "Leave thanking Daisy's hand, and tell me _when_you are going; for the night is far past, children. "

"I am gone when I bid you good-night, " said Thorold. "I mustset out with the dawn — to catch the train I must take. "

"With the dawn! — _this_ morning!" cried Miss Cardigan. 

"Certainly. I should be there this minute, if the colonel hadnot given me something to do here that kept me. "

"And when will ye do it?"

"Do it! It is done, " said Thorold; "before I came here. But Imust catch the first train in the morning. "

"And you'll want some breakfast before that, " she said rising. 

"No, I shall not, " said Thorold, catching hold of her. "I wantnothing. I did want my supper. Sit down, aunt Catherine, andbe quiet. I want nothing, I tell you, but more time. "

"We may as well sit up the rest of the night, " I said; "it isso far gone now. "

"Yes, and what will you be good for to-morrow?" said MissCardigan. "You must lie down and take a bit of rest. "

I felt no weariness; but I remember the grave, tender, examination of Thorold's eyes, which seemed to touch me withtheir love, to find out whether I — and himself — might beindulged or not. It was a bit of the thoughtful, watchfulaffection, which always surrounded me when he was near. Inever had it just so from anybody else. 

"It won't do, Daisy, " said he gaily. "You would not have me goin company with self-reproaches all day to-morrow? You mustlie down here on the sofa; and sleep or not, we'll all bestill for two hours. Aunt Catherine will thank me to stoptalking for that length of time. "

I was not sleepy, but Miss Cardigan and Thorold would not beresisted. Thorold wheeled up the sofa, piled the cushions, andmade me lie down, with the understanding that nobody shouldspeak for the time he had specified. Miss Cardigan, on herpart, soon lost herself in her easy chair. Thorold walkedperseveringly up and down the room. I closed my eyes andopened my eyes, and lay still and thought. It is all before menow. The firelight fading and brightening; Thorold took careof the fire; the gleam of the gaslight on the rows of books;Miss Cardigan's comfortable figure gone to sleep in the cornerof her chair; and the figure which ever and anon came betweenme and the fire, piling or arranging the logs of wood, andthen paced up and down just behind me. There was no sleep formy eyes; of course. How should there be? I seemed to pass allmy life in review, and took the bearings of my presentposition, and got calmed and quieted. I think they were silverhours while I lay there, if time is ever made of suchmaterial; not golden, for my happiness was not quite soperfect. There were many things to temper it. 

I rose up the minute the hours were over, for I could bear thesilence no longer, nor the losing any more time. Thoroldstopped his walk then, and we had a long talk over the fire byourselves, while Miss Cardigan slept on. Trust her, though, for waking up when there was anything to be done. Long beforedawn she roused herself and went to call her servants andorder our early breakfast. 

"What are you going to do now, Daisy?" said Thorold, turningto me with a weight of earnestness in his eyes, and a flash ofthat keen inspection which they sometimes gave me. 

"You know —" I said, "I am going to study as hard as I can fora month or two more, — till my school closes. "

"Then?" —

I was silent. 

"What then, Daisy? Perhaps you will find some way to come onand see me at Washington — if the rebels don't take it first?"

It must be told. 

"No — I cannot. — My father and mother wish me to come out tothem as soon as I get a chance. "

"Where?"

"In Switzerland. "

"Switzerland! To stay how long?"

"I don't know — till the war is over, I suppose. I do notthink they would come back before. "

"I shall come and fetch you, then, Daisy. "

But it seemed a long way off. And how much might be between. We were both silent. 

"That is heavy, for me, " said Thorold at last. "Little Daisy, you do not know how heavy!"

He was caressing my hair, smoothing and stroking it as hespoke. I looked up, and his eyes flashed fire instantly. 

"Say that in words!" he exclaimed, taking me in his arms. "Sayit, Daisy! say it. It will be worth so much to me. "

But my lips had hardly a chance to speak. 

"Say what?"

"Daisy, you _have_ said it. Put it in words, that is all. "

But his eyes were so fill of flashing triumph that I thoughthe had got enough for the time. 

"Daisy, those eyes of yours are like mountain lakes, deep andstill. But when I look quite down to the bottom of them —sometimes I see something — I thought I did then. "

"What?" I asked, very much amused. 

"I see it there now, Daisy!"

"I was afraid he did, for _his_ eyes were like sunbeams, and Ithought they went through everything at that minute. I don'tknow what moved me, the consciousness of this inspection orthe consciousness of what it discovered; but I know thatfloods of shyness seemed to flush my face and brow, and evento the tips of my fingers. I would have escaped if I could, but I could not; and I think Thorold rather liked what he saw. There was no hiding it, unless I hid it on his shoulder; and Iwas ashamed to have to do that, but he liked it. I felt thathis lips knew just as well as his eyes what state my cheekswere in, and took their own advantage. Though presently theirtenderness soothed me too, and even nullified the soft littlelaugh with which he whispered, "Are you ashamed to show it to_me_, Daisy?"

"You know, " said I, still keeping my eyes hid, "you have me atadvantage. If you were not going — away — so soon, I would notdo a great many things. "

"Daisy!" said he, laughing, — "Daisy!" — And touching my cheekas one who meant to keep his advantage. But then his voicechanged, and he repeated, with a deeper and deepening tonewith each word — "Daisy! — my Daisy!"

I had very nearly burst out into great sobs upon his breast, with the meeting of opposite tides of feeling. Sweet andbitter struggled for the upper hand; struggled, while I wasafraid he would feel the laboured breath which went and came, straining me. And the sweetness, for the moment, got thebetter. I knew he must go, in an hour or little more, awayfrom me. I knew it was for uncertain and maybe dangerous duty. I knew it might at best be long before we could see each otheragain; and, back of all, the thought of my father and motherwas not reassuring. But his arms were round me and my head wason his shoulder; and that was but the outward symbol of theinward love and confidence which filled all my heart with itssatisfying content. For the moment happiness was uppermost. Not all the clouds on the horizon could dim the brightness ofthat one sun-ray which reached me. 

I do not know what Thorold thought, but he was as still as Ifor a while. 

"Daisy, " he said at last, "my Daisy, you need not grudge anyof your goodness to me. Don't you know, you are to be my lightand my watchword in what lies before me?"

"Oh, no!" I said, lifting my head; "Oh, no, Christian!"

"Why no?" said he. 

"I want you to have a better watchword and follow a betterlight. Not me. Oh, Christian, won't you?"

"What shall my watchword be?" — said he, looking into my eyes. But I was intent on something else then. 

"Whatsoever ye do, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, " Ianswered. 

"A soldier, Daisy? —"

"A soldier more than anybody, " I said; "for He calls us to besoldiers, and you know what it means. "

"But you forget, " said he, not taking his eyes from my face, —"in my service I must obey as well as command; I am not my ownmaster exactly. "

"Let Christ be your Master, " I said. 

"How then with this other service?"

"Why, it is very plain, " I said. "Command in the love of God, and obey in the fear of God; that covers all. "

I did not see the natural sequence of what followed; for itwas a succession of kisses that left no chance for a word toget out of my mouth. Then Thorold rose up, straightenedhimself, and I saw Miss Cardigan just entering. 

"I will not forget, Daisy, " he said, in a tone as if we hadbeen talking of business. I thought, neither should I. Andthen came Miss Cardigan, and the servant behind her bringingcoffee and bread and eggs and marmalade — I don't know whatbeside — and we sat down again to the table, knowing that thenext move would be a move apart. But the wave of happiness wasat the flood with me, and it bore me over all the underlyingroughnesses of the shore — for the time. I do not thinkanybody wanted to eat much; we played with cups of coffee andwith each other, and dallied with the minutes till the lastone was spent. 

And then came the parting. That was short. 

THE END

Note by the transcriber :DAISY is the continuation of MELBOURNE HOUSE. There is a furthercontinuation as DAISY IN THE FIELD.