Certainly the sun was very hot that day. The fishers on the island found
it so, notwithstanding that they had sought out every one for himself
the shadiest, freshest nook that could be found. Nothing was fresh; and
if the trees did hinder the sunshine from falling on some parts of the
ground, they kept off none of it from the water; and the glare from that
was said to be unendurable. Even where there was not much glare strictly
speaking; people were not particular in their speech that day. At last
they voted that holding lines in the water was of no use; fish could not
be expected to leave their cool depths below to seek the sunny regions
near the surface of the water; "they would be fools if they did," one of
the ladies remarked. Fish never were supposed to be very wise creatures,
Mr. Sandford informed her; but nevertheless, it was resolved not to
reckon upon their want of wisdom at this time, but to put up and go back
to shore, and try what cold chicken would do. So just about the hour
when the sun's work for the day verges towards the hottest, the little
boat was seen again stealing over the sunny surface of the lake, back to
where the tablecloth lay spread for the tired people.
A little while before it reached that place, Dr. Sandford arrived upon
the scene. He locked a little warm in the face; but his white shooting
coat did not seem less affected by the state of the weather than the
doctor's temper. Mrs. Gary and Mrs. Fish he found sunk in somnolency at
the foot of the tree where they had been talking. The young ladies were
sitting by the emptied hampers, deep in confab. The boys and Fido, over
against the outspread feast, were arranging fishing tackle, and watching
the return of the boat; with eyes of anticipation. To them came the
doctor.
"Where is your sister, Ransom?"
"I don't know." The tone meant, I don't care.
"I do not see her anywhere."
"No more do I," said Ransom, without raising his eyes from his fishing
line.
"Where is she?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Did she go with the fishing party?"
"No sir; she was here when we came," Alexander Fish spoke up.
"Yes, I remember she was here," said Preston. "I remember seeing her.
She cannot be far off. It's hot enough to keep people from straying
far."
The doctor, being not absolutely satisfied with this reasoning, and
having nothing better to do, occupied himself with a search after the
missing Daisy. It lasted some time, and he was beginning to be not quite
easy in his mind; when, being a sportsman, his eye detected something at
a distance which was not moss nor stone. In two minutes the doctor came
up with it. It was Daisy, fast asleep on her moss bed behind the rock.
Her head lay on her arm which was curled up under it; and profound
slumber had left the little pale face as serene as usual. The doctor was
warm by this time. He sat down on the moss beside her; and putting his
arm under Daisy's shoulders lifted her up, by way of waking her,
speaking to her at the same moment. But to his amusement, Daisy no
sooner got her eyes well open than she shook herself free of him, and
sat as demure as possible opposite to him on the moss.
"Dr. Sandford!--I believe--I got asleep," she said in a bewildered kind
of way.
"How did you get _here_, Daisy?"
"I came here, sir."
"What for did you come here?"
Daisy looked troubled; glanced at the doctors face, and then rested her
head on her hand.
"Who has been vexing you now?" said he at haphazard.
"I am not vexed," said Daisy in the gentlest of all possible tones.
"Tired?"
"I think I am tired."
"Honour bright, Daisy!--has not some one been vexing you?"
"I ought not to have been vexed," said Daisy slowly.
"I will wager that you are wrong there, and that you ought to have been
vexed. Who was it, Daisy?"
"Never mind, please, Dr. Sandford! It is no matter at all now."
She put her little hand confidingly in the doctor's as she spoke and
looked very earnest. He could not resist her.
"I wish I had come sooner," he said. "I shall be suspicious of
everybody, Daisy. Come--you and I must go to dinner, or there will be a
hue and cry after us."
Indeed by this time the whole party were gathered, and in impatient
expectation that the dinner would make up to them in some degree for the
various disappointments of the morning. All were gathered and had
arranged themselves conveniently upon the grass, around the feast which
was spread out upon the tablecloth, before anybody knew that two of
their number were wanting. The cry was just raised, "Where is the
doctor?"--when the doctor hove in sight with Daisy by his side.
Everybody was placed already; and it was very natural that the doctor
keeping hold of Daisy's hand, led her with him to the spot that seemed
to be left for his occupancy, and seated her there beside him. On the
other side of Daisy was Mrs. Stanfield. She was very well satisfied with
this arrangement, seeing that her father was surrounded by people and
busy besides; and that Nora and Ella were with Alexander and Ransom.
What a gay tableful they were! all talking and laughing, though
everybody declared himself exceeded by the heat and bored by the
fishing, and generally tired of everything but eating and drinking. But
iced champagne was now at the parched lips, and boned turkey and jellied
ham were waiting attention, and a good time had come. It was some while,
of course, before Daisy could be served. She waited, feeling very happy
and amused; for a party of people taking a cold dinner out of doors do
not look nor act exactly like the same people taking a hot dinner in the
house. Daisy never dreamed that anybody was noticing _her_. She had a
disagreeable surprise.
"Daisy," said Mrs. Randolph from a little distance, and across several
people,--"Daisy, what did you do that for?"
"Mamma!"--said Daisy. "What, mamma?"
"Have you a headache?"
"O no, mamma."
"What did you put up your hand to your brow for?"
"Mamma?"--said Daisy, very much bewildered. For she knew nothing was the
matter, and she could not guess what her mother was thinking of.
Moreover, somehow, Mrs. Randolph's words or manner had acted to stop the
voices of all the company in her neighbourhood; and everybody was
waiting and looking to see what the subject of interest might be. Mrs.
Randolph's words could come now with their usual calm distinctness; and
Daisy's answers, no matter how softly spoken, could be well heard. In a
good deal of wonder Daisy repeated, "Mamma?"
"You put up your hand and sat with your eyes covered--did you not,
just now?"
"Yes, mamma."--No need to bid anybody look and listen now; the rosy
flush that had spread itself all over Daisy's pale cheeks sufficiently
aroused curiosity.
"I notice that you do so before every meal--is it not the case?"
"Yes, mamma."
Dr. Sandford could hear the caught breath. He did not look, except by a
glance, but he listened.
"What does that mean, Daisy?"
"Mamma?"--said the child in distress.
"I ask you, what that means? what is it for?"
"Mamma--may I come round there and speak to you?"
"Certainly not. Sit still in your place and answer."
But Daisy was silent, very flushed.
"Do you hear, Daisy? what does that action mean? I wish to know."
"Mamma, may I speak to you in private and tell you?"
"Are you ashamed of it? are you ashamed to tell me?"
"No, mamma."
"Then do it at once."
But everybody waited in vain to hear the answer. It did not come.
"I shall not ask you again, Daisy."
"Mamma," said the child low and modestly, but with steadiness,--"I was
praying."
"Praying! were you! Why do you choose that particular time for your
private devotions?"
It was almost too much. The tears started in Daisy's eyes; but presently
she answered,--"Because God is good to us, mamma."
"He is always good," said Mrs. Randolph. "That is a very silly practice
of yours, Daisy, and very unbecoming. There is a proper way of doing
everything."
The lady's manner said that the subject was dismissed, and her guests
returned to their ordinary conversation. Except the doctor and Daisy.
She was overwhelmed, and he was gravely unsocial.
Was it silly?--that bound her heart had made up to the feet of her King?
That joyful thanksgiving, and expression of love, and pledge of
obedience, and prayer for help? It was something better than the meal
often to Daisy; something sweeter and happier. Was it silly? and must
she do so no more except when she was alone?
Daisy had quite forgotten that eating and drinking was part of the
present matter in hand, when Dr. Sandford softly asked her what she
would like to have. Daisy said anything he pleased; not caring herself,
and indeed in too much confusion of mind yet to know or think about the
business. And her appetite was gone. Dr. Sandford provided for her with
kind care, what she liked too; but nothing was good to Daisy. She broke
bread and swallowed milk mechanically; the more substantial food she
refused utterly. Bread and milk and grapes were Daisy's dinner.
"It's good to be somebody's favourite," Ransom said to her after the
meal was over. "Nobody got any grapes but you."
"Nobody? Why Ransom, I thought everybody had them."
"_I_ didn't,--nor Preston, nor Alexander--not a berry; and Nora and Ella
Stanfield didn't. You are the favourite."
"O Nora," said Daisy, "didn't you have any grapes? I'm sorry!"
"I had peaches," said Nora. "I like peaches a great deal the best.
Daisy, what shall we do now?"
"Suppose we sit down and have a talk."
"A talk?" said Nora. "Suppose we have a game of hide and seek? It's such
a good place."
"Or forfeits?" said Ella. "It is too hot to play hide and seek."
"I don't think it is hot," said Nora. "The sun don't shine now."
"Daisy, don't you want to go out with me in the boat?" said Preston
coming up. "We'll get in the shade, and see if you can catch a pickerel
as well as you did a trout."
"O I should like that!" said Daisy eagerly. She saw the kindness of
Preston's meaning. He wanted to make her forget her vexations.
"And may we go too?" Nora asked.
"Certainly; but Daisy and I are going to do the fishing. You must be
content to look on. We will go round to the other side of the island,
Daisy; it is pretty there, I know. And we shall have a better chance for
the pickerel, for the sun is gone under a cloud."
So the sun had; but at that very moment the cloud passed off and the
brilliant hot beams fell with what seemed renewed brilliancy on the
lake, and on all the ground which they could touch.
"It will go under again," said Preston. "We do not mind trifles. Come,
Daisy."
"Daisy, you must not go," said Dr. Sandford looking round. He was just
moving away to see some one else, and was gone in a minute.
"The doctor is all very well when one is sick," said Preston; "but I
never heard he had a right to command people when they are well. Daisy,
we will not mind him."
"I must," said Daisy, meekly. "But you can go without me, if you want
to."
"Nonsense, dear little Daisy! you are not obliged to do what _everybody_
says," her cousin urged. "Dr. Sandford has no more business to say what
you shall do than what I shall do. I will not let him rule you so. Come!
we will go try for the pickerel. Go, Nora and Ella, run away with the
baskets to the boat. Come, Daisy, come!"
"No, Preston, I cannot."
"Because of what that stupid man says? or don't you want to go!"
"I would like to go very much, thank you, Preston."
"Then you shall!"
"No. I cannot."
"Daisy, you might as well obey me as Dr. Sandford."
"I do not think so."
"Nora and Ella are going. You will be left alone."
"I hope you will catch some pickerel," said Daisy steadily.
But Preston was vexed. He did not like it that his word should not have
as much weight with his little cousin as any other person's, after her
father and mother. Like other boys, and men, for the most part, he was
fond of having his own way even in little things; though he sought it in
a polite fashion. And Daisy was very fond of him, and always followed
his lead; but now he could not move her. He went off at a bound, and
soon was out upon the water, with the girls and Alexander and Ransom
also who had joined him.
Daisy would have liked the shelter of her mossy hiding-place again. She
stood in the shade of a tree looking after the boat; feeling very much
left alone and greatly disposed to have a good crying time; but that was
not her way of meeting trouble. What a strange day of pleasure this
Silver Lake business had turned out! Yet Daisy had enjoyed many things
in it; but her mother's attack upon her at luncheon had sobered her
completely. It was such a sign of what she might expect. Daisy presently
fell to considering what she should do; and then remembered her old
refuge, prayer; and then concluded that she was a very happy little girl
after all. And instead of being hurt that Nora had been with her so
little that day, it was very natural, Daisy said to herself. Of course,
Nora wanted to go in the boat with Preston after fish; it was too good
an opportunity to be lost; and of course she had liked to walk in the
morning with the larger and gayer party. It was all right, Daisy
decided, although not what she herself would have done in the
circumstances. Would her note to her father have been reckoned "silly"
too? Very likely. Daisy turned her wistful eyes to where he was; sitting
in a group of ladies and gentlemen, talking. Daisy could not go to him.
Further along, Mrs. Gary was fighting the heat under a tree by herself.
No attraction there. Still further--the doctor was standing talking to
the two young ladies. As Daisy looked, he quitted them and came towards
her.
"Have I spoiled all your pleasure, Daisy?"
"No, sir."
"Are you angry with me?"
The answer this time was given with such an affectionate bright smile
that the doctor must have been hard not to feel it.
"You do not seem to have much pleasure on hand just now," said he;
"would you like to take a little walk with me, and see if we can find
any wonderful things?"
Daisy's face was quite answer enough, it was so full of content. The
doctor had no intention to tire her; be strolled along the borders of
the lake, which was wild and lovely all the more as they got further
away from the pic-nic ground. Firs and oaks stood thick all along, with
many other trees also; the ground was carpeted with layers of moss;
great rocks rose up by the water's edge, grey and brown with lichens. It
was not so hot now. The sun's glare was shielded off. On a mossy carpet
beside the water's edge the doctor and Daisy sat down. Undoubtedly the
doctor had never taken so much trouble with a child before; but Daisy
was a study to him.
"We do not find the wonderful things, Daisy," he remarked, throwing
himself back upon the moss with his hands under his head. His cap fell
off; his blue eyes looked at her with a sort of contented laziness;
never sleepily. Daisy smiled at him.
"I do," she said.
"You do! What have you found!"
"I think everything is wonderful."
"A profound truth," said the doctor; "but you are very young to find it
out. Instance, Daisy."
"But you want to go to sleep, sir."
"How dare you say so? No, I don't. I want to have a talk with you about
something wonderful."
Daisy thought he looked a little sleepy, for his eyelids drooped well
over his eyes; nevertheless the eyes saw keenly enough the start of
pleasure into hers. And they had seen the pale, subdued look of the face
that it had worn before. Nevertheless, in spite of that start, Daisy
remained as quiet as a mouse, looking at him.
"Don't you think I can talk while I am enjoying myself in this fashion?"
said the doctor.
"I think you can talk any way," said Daisy; "but you _look_ a great deal
more like sleeping, sir."
"None of that. Go on, Daisy. Only do not say anything about the sun, now
that it has gone under a cloud. Let us forget it for a little while."
"What shall I take, then?"
"I don't care. Something green and refreshing."
Daisy looked around her. On every side she saw things that she had no
doubt would be very interesting to talk about; she did not know which to
choose. There were the trees; the firs and hemlocks, and the oaks and
maples, growing thick on every hand. No doubt those beautiful structures
had uses and characters of wonder; she had a great mind to ask the
doctor to tell her about them. But the great boulder beside which they
were hid from view, divided her attention; it was very large, and
rounded off on all sides, lying quietly on the ground; and Daisy was
curious to know how it came to be so grown over with green things;
mosses and ferns draped it all over; how could they grow on the bare
rock?
"Well, Daisy?" said her friend, watching how Daisy's countenance woke up
from its subdued expression.
"Dr. Sandford, how could these things grow on the rock? these green
things?"
"What green things?"
"Why, ever so many sorts. Here is moss, a great deal of it, of different
kinds; and there is beautiful brake at the top, like plumes of feathers.
How can they grow there?"
"Why not?"
"I thought everything wanted some earth to grow in."
"Have they none?"
"I don't know. I thought not. They must have very little indeed, Dr.
Sandford."
"Very little will do, I suppose."
"But I do not see how _any_ earth got there," said Daisy. "It was only a
bare rock at first, of course."
"At first," repeated the doctor. "Well, Daisy, I suppose it was no more.
But there is something else growing there, which you have not spoken
of."
"Is there?" said Daisy. "I do not see anything else."
"Pardon me--you do see it."
"Then I do not know what it is," said Daisy laughing. Absolutely, the
sober, sober little face had forgotten its care, and the eyes were
alight with intelligence and curiosity, and the lips were unbent in good
honest laughter. The doctor raised himself up to a sitting posture.
"What do you call those grey and brown patches of colour that hide your
rock all over?"
"Grey and brown?" said Daisy wistfully--"those are just the colours of
the rock, aren't they?"
"No. Look close."
"Why, Dr. Sandford, what is it? It is not the rock--some of it is
not--but here is a spot of yellow that is nothing else, I think."
"You must learn not to trust your eyes, Daisy. That is something that
grows; it is not rock; it is a vegetable. If I had my pocket lens here
I would shew you; but I am afraid--yes, I have left it at home."
"Why it is!" cried Daisy. "I can see now--it is _not_ rock. What is it,
Dr. Sandford?"
"Lichen."
"What is that, sir?"
"It is one of the lowest forms of vegetable life. It is the first dress
the rocks wear, Daisy."
"But what does it live on?"
"Air and water, I suppose."
"I never knew that was a vegetable," said Daisy musingly. "I thought it
was the colour of the rock."
"That goes to prepare soil for the mosses, Daisy."
"O how, Dr. Sandford?"
"In time the surface of the rock is crumbled a little by its action;
then its own decay furnishes a very little addition to that. In
favourable situations a stray oak leaf or two falls and lies there, and
also decays, and by and by there is a little coating of soil or a little
lodgment of it in a crevice or cavity, enough for the flying spores of
some moss to take root and find home."
"And then the moss decays and makes soil for the ferns?"
"I suppose so."
Daisy stood looking with a countenance of delighted intelligence at the
great boulder, which was now to her a representative and witness of
natural processes she had had no knowledge of before. The mosses, the
brakes, the lichen, had all gained new beauty and interest in her eyes.
The doctor watched her and then scrambled up to his feet and came to her
side.
"Look here, Daisy," said he, stooping down at the foot of the rock and
shewing her where tufts of a delicate little green plant clustered,
bearing little umbrella-like heads on tiny shafts of handles.
"What is that Dr. Sandford?"
"Something wonderful."
"Is it? It is pretty. What is it, sir?"
[Illustration]
"It is a plant somewhere between the mosses and the lichens in its
character--it is one of the liverworts, and they are some of the first
plants to go in advance of superior vegetation. This is called
_Marchantia_."
"And is it wonderful, Dr. Sandford?"
"If I could shew it to you, you would think so. Look here, Daisy--on the
surface of this leaf do you see little raised spots here and there?"
"Yes, I see them."
"Those are, when they are finished, little baskets."
"Baskets?" exclaimed Daisy delightedly. "I can't see anything like a
basket now."
"No, it is too small for you to see; you must take it on my word, who
have seen it. They are baskets, and such baskets as you never dreamed
of. The shape is elegant, and round the edge, Daisy, they are cut into a
fringe of teeth, and each tooth is cut again into teeth, making a fringe
around _its_ tiny edge."
"I wish I could see it," said Daisy.
"Now if you were my little sister, and lived with me, I could shew you
these things in the evenings."
Daisy responded to this with a very grateful and somewhat wistful smile,
but immediately went on with the business in hand.
"Do these little baskets hold anything, Dr. Sandford"
"Yes. Baskets are always made to hold something."
"What do they hold?"
"They hold what are called _spores_; that is, little bits of things
which, whenever they get a chance, begin to grow and make new plants."
"Seeds?" said Daisy.
"They answer the purpose of seeds."
"How do they get out of the basket? do the winds blow them out?"
"Or the rain washes them out. If they lie long enough in the basket,
they will take root there, and then there is a new plant seen growing
out of the old one."
"How wonderful it is!" said Daisy.
"There is another wonder about it. It does not matter which way these
little spores lie on the ground or in the basket; but the side that
happens to be exposed to the light, after a time, prepares itself to
expand into the surface of a frond, while the dark side sends down a
tiny root."
"And it does not matter which side lies uppermost?"
"No, not in the beginning."
"What is a _frond_, Dr. Sandford?"
"This sort of seed-bearing leaf is called so."
"How pretty it is!" said Daisy. "What are these little things like
umbrellas?"
"These carry the real seed vessels of the plant."
"Other seeds. Dr. Sandford, is _everything_ wonderful?"
"What do you think about it?"
"I do not know but a very little," said Daisy; "but I never should have
thought this little green moss--or what did you say it was?"
"Liverwort. Its name is Marchantia."
"This liverwort; I never should have supposed it was anything but
pretty, and of course good for something; but now I never heard anything
so wonderful."
"More than the sun?" said Dr. Sandford smiling.
"It is more surprising, I think," said Daisy.
"Pray, what makes you conclude so securely that this little Marchantia
is _good for something_?"
Daisy gave him a quick look of wisdom and suspicion mingled. The doctor
was getting a very good amusement himself, and quite entered into the
matter. He waited for Daisy's answer. It came diplomatically.
"_Isn't_ everything good for something, sir?"
"'Pon my word, I don't know," said the doctor. "My enquiry was for the
grounds of your opinion, Daisy."
"It was not an opinion. I do not think I am old enough to have an
opinion."
"What was it, Daisy?"
The doctor was still crouching down by the side of the rock examining
carelessly whatever he found there. Daisy looked at him and waited, and
felt at last that good manners required her to speak.
"You said, sir, that baskets were made to hold something."
"So your remark was an inference from mine?"
"No, sir."
"Go on, Daisy."
"I only said it, sir, because I knew it was true."
There was an odd contrast between the extreme modesty of Daisy's manner
and the positiveness of her words.
"It is said to be a great philosophical truth, Daisy; but what I want to
know is how you, not being a philosopher, have got such firm hold of
it?"
He faced Daisy now, and she gave way as usual before the searching blue
eyes. One soft look, and her eyes fell away.
"I only thought it. Dr. Sandford, because in the beginning--when God had
made everything--the Bible says he saw that it was all good."
"Daisy, how came you to be such a lover of the Bible?"
Daisy did not speak at once, and when she did it was a departure from
the subject.
"Dr. Sandford, I felt a drop of rain on my face!"
"And here is another," said the doctor getting up. "This is what I have
expected all day. Come, Daisy--you must be off in your chaise-à-porteurs
without delay."
"But Nora, and Ella, and the boys!--they are away off on the lake."
"They will scuttle home now," said the doctor, "but I have nothing to do
with them. You are my business, Daisy."
Accordingly he carried her back to the lunching place, not indeed in his
arms, but with a strong hand that made her progress over the stones and
moss very rapid, and that gave her a great flying leap whenever occasion
was, over any obstacle that happened to be in the way. There was need
enough for haste. The light veil of haze that had seemed to curtain off
the sunlight so happily from the lake and the party, proved now to have
been only the advancing soft border of an immense thick cloud coming up
from the west. No light veil now; a deep, dark covering was over the
face of the sky, without break or fold; the drop or two of rain that had
been felt were merely the outriders of an approaching storm. Low
threatening, distant mutterings of thunder from behind the mountains,
told the party what they might expect before long.
There was sudden confusion. Nobody wanted to be out in the storm, and to
avoid it seemed a difficult problem. Hastily the ladies caught up their
scarfs and bags, and set off upon a scattering flight through the woods
to the shore, those who were nearest or first ready not stopping to wait
for the others. Quickly the luncheon ground was deserted; fast the blue
and white flutter of muslins disappeared in the enveloping woods;
hastily the remainder of the packing went on to get the hampers again in
readiness to move. In the midst of all this, who was to carry Daisy's
chair?
"You say there is a house somewhere on the way," said Mr. Randolph to
the doctor. "If you will go forward with Daisy at once, I will stay to
look after those children in the boat. They are coming now as fast as
they can."
"Can you carry my gun?"
"Certainly. Doctor, I will take that office, if you will stay behind
till the boat gets to land."
"Thank you--it is better arranged the other way. The storm will be upon
us before the ladies get to the shore, I fear."
"Then they had better take the other route."
Mr. Randolph in haste despatched one of the men to recall the fleeing
members of the party, and bring them, round by the other road to the
house. But before that, the doctor had put Daisy in her chair, and with
Logan at the other end of it had set off to reach shelter. It grew very
dark; and it was sultrily still in the woods. Not a leaf trembled on its
stem. The steps of the two chair-bearers sounded ominously in the entire
hush of everything. The gloom still deepened. The doctor and Logan with
swift, steady strides carried the chair along at a goodly rate; not as
it had come in the morning. In the midst of this, and after it had gone
on some time in silence, Daisy twisted herself round to look at the
doctor and give him a smile.
"You do not seem concerned, Daisy, in the view of getting wet?"
"Why no," said Daisy twisting round, again, "it is nice. I am only sorry
for the people who are so frightened."
"What is nice? getting wet?"
"O no," said Daisy. "Maybe I shall not get wet--you go so fast."
But at this moment there came a nearer growl of thunder, and the leaves
in the tops of the trees rustled as if a breath had passed over them.
Then were still.
"Can you mend your pace, Logan?" said the doctor.
"Ay, sir!"--came in the deep, cheery utterance of Logan's Scotch voice.
"Hold fast, Daisy"--said the doctor; and the two chair-bearers changed
their pace for a swinging trot. It was needful to hold on now indeed,
for this gait jolted the chair a good deal; but it got over the ground,
and Daisy found it excessively amusing. They passed the thick-standing
tree stems in quick succession now; the rocks uprising from the side of
the path were left behind one after another; they reached the sharp bend
in the road; and keeping up the swinging trot with a steadiness which
shewed good wind on the part of both the chair-bearers, at last the
little house where Sam had been left hove in view. Time it was; full
time. One and another sough of the wind had bowed the tree-tops with a
token of what was coming; one and another bright flash of lightning had
illumined the woody wilderness; and now just as the chair stopped, drops
began to fall which seemed as large as cherry-stones, mingled with hail
a good deal larger. Their patter sounded on the leaves a minute or two;
then ceased.
"That will do, Logan," said the doctor. "Bring the chair in under
shelter if you can; and come in yourself. This will be a shower." And
he led Daisy into the house.
If ever you saw a dark-looking place, that was the room into which the
house door admitted them. Two little windows seemed at this instant to
let in the darkness rather than the light; they were not very clean,
besides being small. A description which Daisy would have said applied
to the whole room. She stood still in the middle of the floor, not
seeing any place to sit down, that she could make up her mind to take.
The doctor went to the window. Logan took a chair. Sam was sitting
disconsolately in a corner. It was hard to say to what class of people
the house belonged; poor people they were of course; and things looked
as if they were simply living there because too poor to live anywhere
else. A slatternly woman stared at the intruders; a dirty child crawled
over the hearth. Daisy could not endure to touch anything, except with
the soles of her shoes. So she stood upright in the middle of the floor;
till the doctor turned round.
"Daisy!--are you going to stand there till the shower is over?"
"Yes, sir,"--Daisy answered patiently. A smile curled the doctor's lips.
He opened the door and lifted in the chair with its long poles, which
indeed half filled the little room; but Daisy sat down. The woman looked
on in astonishment.
"Be she weakly, like?" she asked at length of the doctor.
"Has been--" he answered.
"And what be that thing for?"
"It is for going up and down mountains."
"Have you come from the mountings!" she asked in great surprise. The
doctor was in for it. He was obliged to explain. Meanwhile the darkness
continued and the rain did not yet fall. A breath of wind now and then
brushed heavily past the house, and sunk into silence. The minutes
passed.
"It will be a happiness if they get here before it begins," said Dr.
Sandford; "it will come when it comes!"
"Be there _more_ comin'?" said the woman.
"A houseful. We are only the beginning."
She moved about now with somewhat of anxiety to get sundry things out of
the way, which yet there seemed no other place for; a frying pan was set
up in a corner; a broom took position by the fire place; a pail of water
was lifted on the table; and divers knives and forks and platters
hustled into a chimney cupboard. Little room enough when all was done.
At last the woman caught up the sprawling baby and sat down with it
opposite the broom, on the other side the fire, in one of the three
chairs the place contained. Sam had another. Logan was on a box. The
woman's eyes said, "Now I am ready to see all that comes."