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 surgeon
now, I found, and stationed at Washington. He had to return to
his post and leave Miss Pinshon to bring me up to Washington.
I fancy matters were easily arranged with Miss Pinshon. She
was as meek as a lamb. But it never was her way to fight
against circumstances. The doctor ordered that I should come
up to Washington in a week or two.
I did not know till he was gone, what a hard week it was going
to be.
As soon as he had turned his back upon Magnolia, my leave-
takings began. I may say they began sooner: for in the morning
after his arrival, when Margaret was in my room, she fell to
questioning me about the truth of the rumour that had reached
the kitchen. Jim said I was going away, not to come back. I do
not know how he had got hold of the notion. And when I told
her it was true, she dropped the pine splinters out of her
hands, and rising to her feet, besought me that I would take
her with me. So eagerly she besought me, that I had much
difficulty to answer.
"I shall be in a school, Margaret," I said. "I could not have
anybody 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'd
be 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 take
washin' and do all Miss Daisy's things up right smart don't
believe they knows how to do things up there! I'll come to
no 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 good
in?"
"The devil is not in Magnolia more than anywhere else," I
said.
"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 Dr
Sandford to ask if I might take the girl with me; and his
answer came back, that if it were any pleasure to me I
certainly might. So that matter was settled. But the parting
with the rest was hard. I do not know whether it was hardest
for them or for me. Darry blessed me and prayed for me. Maria
wept over me. Theresa mourned and lamented. Tears and wailings
came from all the poor women who knew me best and used to come
to the Sunday readings; and Pete took occasion to make private
request, that when I was grown, or when at any time I should
want a man servant, I would remember and send for him. He
could do anything, he said; he could drive horses or milk cows
or take care of a garden, or _cook_. It was said in a subdued
voice, and though with a gleam of his white circle of teeth at
the last mentioned accomplishment, it was said with a depth of
grave earnestness which troubled me. I promised as well as I
could; but my heart was very sore for my poor people, left now
without anybody, even so much as a child, to look after their
comfort and give them any hopes for one world or the other.
Those heavy days were done at last. Margaret was speedy with
my packing; a week from the time of Dr. Sandford's coming, I
had said my last lesson to Miss Pinshon, read my last reading
to my poor people, shaken the last hand-shakings; and we were
on the little steamer plying down the Sands river.
I think I was wearied out; for I remember no excitement or
interest about the journey, which ought to have had so much
for me. In a passive state of mind I followed Miss Pinshon
from steamer to station; from one train of cars to another;
and saw the familiar landscape flit before me as the cars
whirled us on. At Baytown we had been joined by a gentleman
who went with us all the rest of the way; and I began by
degrees to comprehend that my governess had changed her
vocation, and instead of taking care, as heretofore, was going
to be taken care of. It did not interest me. I saw it, that
was all. I saw Margaret's delight, too, shown by every quick
and thoughtful movement that could be of any service to me,
and by a certain inexpressible air of deliverance which sat on
her, I cannot tell how, from her bonnet down to her shoes. But
her delight reminded me of those that were not delivered.
I think, of all the crushing griefs that a young person can be
called to bear, one of the sorest is the feeling of wrong-
doing on the part of a beloved father or mother. I was sure
that my father, blinded by old habit and bound by the laws of
the country, did not in the least degree realise the true
state of the matter. I knew that the real colour of his gold
had never been seen by him. Not the less, _I_ knew now that it
was bloody; and what was worse, though I do not know _why_ it
should be worse, I knew that it was soiled. I knew that greed
and dishonour were the two collectors of our revenue, and
_wrong_ our agent. Do I use strong words? They are not too
strong for the feelings which constantly bore upon my heart,
nor too bitter; though my childish heart never put them into
such words at the time. That my father did not know, saved my
love and reverence for him; but it did not change anything
else.
In the last stage of our journey, as we left a station where
the train had stopped, I noticed a little book left on one of
the empty seats of the car. It lay there and nobody touched
it; till we were leaving the car at Alexandria and almost
everybody had gone out, and I saw that it lay there still and
nobody would claim it. In passing I took it up. It was a neat
little book, with gilt edges; no name in it; and having its
pages numbered for the days of the year. And each page was
full of Bible words. It looked nice. I put the book in my
pocket; and on board the ferryboat opened it again, and looked
for the date of the day in March where we were. I found the
words "He preserveth the way of His saints." They were the
words heading the page. I had not time for another bit; but as
I left the boat this went into my heart like a cordial.
It was a damp, dark morning. The air was chill as we left the
little boat cabin; the streets were dirty; there was a
confusion of people seeking carriages or porters or baggage or
custom; then suddenly I felt as if I had lighted on a tower of
strength, for Dr. Sandford stood at my side. A good-humoured
sort of a tower he looked to me, in his steady, upright
bearing; and his military coat helped the impression of that.
I can see now his touch of his cap to Miss Pinshon, and then
the quick glance which took in Margaret and me. In another
minute I had shaken hands with my governess, and was in a
carriage with Margaret opposite me; and Dr. Sandford was
giving my baggage in charge to somebody. And then he took his
place beside me and we drove off. And I drew a long breath.
"Punctual to your time, Daisy," said the doctor. "But what
made you choose such a time? How much of yourself have you
left by the way?"
"Miss Pinshon liked better to travel all night," I said,
"because there was no place where she liked to stop to spend
the 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 years
past?"
The doctor put the question with such a cool gravity, that I
could not help laughing. Yet I believe my laughing was very
near crying. At first he did so put me in mind of all that was
about me when I used to see him in that time long before. And
an 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; there
was never a night that I could go to sleep without my
governess 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 about
me. And Preston had petted me, when he was near. But even
Preston sometimes lost sight of me in the urgency of his own
pleasure or business. There was a great difference in the
strong hand of Dr. Sandford's care; and if you had ever looked
into 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 she
was staying. It was no matter, for a room was ready for me;
and Dr. Sandford had a nice little breakfast brought, and saw
me eat it, just as if I were a patient. Then he ordered me to
bed, 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 undressing
me; I felt so comfortable.
"Are Miss Pinshon done gone away, Miss Daisy?" my handmaid
asked.
"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-meetings
in Magnolia now?" For with the mention of Magnolia my thoughts
swept back.
" 'Spect the overseer have his ugly old way!" Margaret uttered
with great disgust. "Miss Daisy done promise me, I go 'long
with Miss Daisy?" she added anxiously.
"Yes. But what makes you want to get away from home more than
all the rest of them?"
"Reckon I'dc done gone kill myself, s'pose. Miss Daisy leave
me 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 de
overseer said." In excitement Margaret's tongue sometimes grew
thick like those of her neighbours.
"Mr. Edwards has no right to sell anybody away from the
place," 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! What
of Pete's wife?"
"Dat doctor will kill me, for sure!" said Margaret, looking at
me. "Do, don't, Miss Daisy! The doctor say you must go right
to 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 before
Miss Daisy come home."
"What?" said I. "What ?"
"It's nothin", Miss Daisy. "The overseer he done got mad with
Pete'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 please
have her clothes off and go to bed?"
There was nothing more to wait for. I submitted, was
undressed; but the rest and sleep which had been desired were
far out of reach now. Pete's wife? my good, strong, gentle,
and I remembered always _grave_, Pete! My heart was on fire with
indignation and torn to pieces with sorrow, both at once. Torn
with the helpless feeling too that I could not mend the wrong.
I do not mean this individual wrong, but the whole state of
things under which such wrong was possible. I was restless on
my bed, though very weary. I would rather have been up and
doing something, than to lie and look at my trouble; only that
being there kept me out of the way of seeing people and of
talking. Such things done under my father and mother's own
authority, on their own land, to their own helpless
dependants; whom yet it was _they_ made helpless and kept
subject to such possibilities. I turned and tossed, feeling
that 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 of
the unvarying grave shadow that Pete's brow always wore. And
now that I had quitted Magnolia, no human friend for the
present remained to all that crowd of poor and ignorant and
needy humanity. Even their comfort of prayer forbidden;
except such comfort as each believer might take by himself
alone.
I did not know, I never did know till long after, how to many
at Magnolia that prohibition wrought no harm. I think Margaret
knew, and even then did not dare tell me. How the meetings for
prayer were not stopped. How watch was kept on certain nights,
till all stir had ceased in the little community; till lights
were out in the overseer's house (and at the great house,
while we were there); and how then, silently and softly from
their several cabins, the people stole away through the woods,
to a little hill beyond the cemetery, quite far out of hearing
or ken of anybody; and there prayed, and sang too, and
"praised God and shouted," as my informant told me; not
neglecting all the while to keep a picket watch about their
meeting place, to give the alarm in case anybody should come.
So under the soft moonlight skies and at depth of night, the
meetings which I had supposed broken up, took new life, and
grew, and lived; and prayers did not fail; and the Lord
hearkened and heard.
It would have comforted me greatly if I could have known this
at the time. But as I said, I suppose Margaret dared not tell
me. After a long while of weary tossing and heart ache, sleep
came at last to me; but it brought Pete and his wife and the
overseer and Margaret in new combinations of trouble; and I
got little refreshment.
"Now you have waked up, Miss Daisy?" said Margaret when I
opened my eyes. "That poundin' noise has done waked you!"
"What noise?"
"It's no Christian noise," said Margaret. "What's the use of
turnin' the house into a clap of thunder like that? But a man
was makin' it o' purpose, for I went out to see; and he telled
me it was to call folks to luncheon. Will you get up, Miss
Daisy?"
Margaret spoke as if she thought I had much better lie still;
but I was weary of the comfort I had found there and disposed
to 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 doctor
that my appearance in other respects struck her unfavourably.
He made no answer to that, but carried us off to the luncheon
room.
There were other people lodging in the house besides my
friends; a long table was spread. Dr. Sandford, I saw, was an
immense favourite. Questions and demands upon his attention
came thick and fast, from both ends and all sides of the
table; about all sorts of subjects and in all manner of tones,
grave and gay. And he was at home to them all, but in the
midst of it never forgot me. He took careful heed to my
luncheon; prepared one thing, and called for another; it
reminded me of a time long gone by; but it did not help me to
eat. I could not eat. The last thing he did was to call for a
fresh raw egg, and break it into a half glass of milk. With
this in his hand we left the dining-room. As soon as we got to
Mrs. Sandford's parlour he gave it to me and ordered me to
swallow it. I suppose I looked dismayed.
"Poor child!" said Mrs. Sandford. "Let me have it beaten up
for 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 know
how.
"Thank you," he said, smiling, as he took the glass. "Now sit
down 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 could
not 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 this
governess of yours has been a good governess?"
I looked wearily out of the window, and cast a weary mental
look over the four years of algebraics and philosophy, at the
bright 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 my
hand 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 of
thoughts, into his face; but I could not speak then.
"Have you looked through a microscope since you have been
there? and made discoveries?"
"Not in natural things, Dr. Sandford."
"Ha!" said the doctor. "Do you want to go and take a drive
with me?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Go and get ready then, please."
I had a very pleasant, quiet drive; the doctor showing me, as
he said, not wonderful things but new things, and taking means
to amuse me. And every day for several days I had a drive.
Sometimes we went to the country, sometimes got out and
examined something in the city. There was a soothing relief in
it all, and in the watchful care taken of me at home, and the
absence of mathematics and philosophy. All day when not
driving or at meals, I lay on Mrs. Sandford's sofa or curled
myself up in the depth of a great easy chair, and turned over
her books; or studied my own blue book which I had picked up
in the car, and which was so little I had Margaret make a big
pocket 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 times
Dr. Sandford took me there, and showed me the various great
rooms, and paintings, and smaller rooms with their beautiful
adornments; and I watched the workmen at work; for the
renewing of the building was not yet finished. As long as he
had time to spare, Dr. Sandford let me amuse myself as I
would; and often got me into talks which refreshed me more
than anything. Still, though I was soothed, my trouble at
heart was not gone. One day we were sitting looking at the
pictures in the great vestibule, when Dr. Sandford suddenly
started a subject which put the Capitol out of my head.
"Daisy," said he, "was it your wish or Margaret's, that she
should 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 so
extremely sore to me.
"I ought to warn you," he went on, "that if you take her
further, she may if she likes leave you, and claim her
freedom. That is the law. If her owner takes her into the free
States, she may remain in them if she will, whether he does or
not."
I was silent still, for the whole thing choked me. I was quite
willing she should have her freedom, get it any way she could;
but there was my father, and his pleasure and interest, which
might not choose to lose a piece of his property and my
mother and _her_ interest and pleasure; I knew what both would
be. 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 you
now, that the girl's design in coming may have been this very
purpose of her freedom?"
"I do not think it was," I said.
"Even if not, it will be surely put in her head by other
people before she has been at the North long; and she will
know 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 view
of the case we had better send her back to Magnolia when you
leave Washington?"
"No," I said.
"I think it would be better," he repeated.
"Oh, no!" I said. "Oh, no, Dr. Sandford. I can't send her
back. You will not send her hack, will you?"
"Be quiet," he said, holding fast the hand which in my
earnestness I had put in his; "she is not my servant; she is
yours; 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's
wish on the subject. If you take her, he may lose several
hundred dollars' worth of property; it is right for me to warn
you; would he choose to run the risk."
I remember now what a fire at my heart sent the blood to my
face. But with my hand in Dr. Sandford's, and those blue eyes
of 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 and
crossed his face. I could hardly tell what, before it was
gone. Quick surprise pleasure amusement - agreement; the
first and the two last certainly; and the pleasure I could not
help fancying had lent its colour to that ray of light, which
had shot for one instant from those impenetrable eyes. He
spoke 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 tears
gathering in my heart.
"How do you mean?" said he, with again the quiver of a smile
upon his lips.
"I mean," I said, struggling with my thoughts and myself, "I
mean, 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 in
that way."
"How do you make it out, Daisy?"
"Because, nobody can give anybody a _right_ to anybody else in
that way."
"Does it not give your mother a right, that the mother of this
girl and probably her grandmother were the property of your
ancestors?"
"They could not be their property justly," I said, glad to get
back 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 has
honestly bought?"
"No," I said, "it _can't_ not if it has been dishonestly
sold."
"Explain, Daisy," said Dr. Sandford, very quietly; but I saw
the gleam of that light in his eye again. I had gone too far
to stop. I went on, ready to break my heart over the right and
the wrong I was separating.
"I mean, the _first_ people that sold the first of these
coloured 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, any
more," I said.
"But, Daisy," said Dr. Sandford, "do you know that there are
different 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, had
no precise right to sell the men and women they brought to
this country; yet those who bought them and paid honest money
for 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 at
first Dr. Sandford, hadn't the people that were sold, hadn't
they rights too?"
"Rights of what sort?"
"A right to do what they liked with themselves, and to earn
money, and to keep their wives?"
"But those rights were lost, you know, Daisy."
"But _could_ they be?" I said. "I mean Dr. Sandford, for
instance, suppose somebody stole your watch from you; would
you 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, or
your mother's, money has gone to support her; her food and
clothing and living have been wholly at their expense. Does
not that give them a right to her services? ought they not to
be 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 northern
servant's wages would have paid for it all; was this girl's
whole life to be taken from her, and by my father and mother,
and for such a cause? The feeling of grief and wrong and shame
got possession of me. I was ready to break my heart in tears;
but I could not show Dr. Sandford what I felt, nor confess to
what I thought of my father's action. I had the greatest
struggle with myself not to give way and cry. I was very weak
bodily, but I know I stood still and did not shed a tear; till
I felt Dr. Sandford's hands take hold of me. They put me
gently 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 he
watched 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 about
all this I do not think he knows about it as I do. I am sure
he 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 too
could have my eyes blinded as I saw other people's were.
"Little Daisy," said my friend the doctor, "but you are
getting 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 a
philosopher at ten years old, I should find a woman at
fourteen but, Daisy, you must not take it on your heart that
you have to teach all the ignorant and help all the distressed
that 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 to
do just such work, and His servants must have it on their
heart to do the same. I cannot tell what was in my look; but I
thought the doctor's face changed.
"One Molly Skelton will do for one four years," he said as he
rose up. "Come, Daisy."
"But, Dr. Sandford," I said, as I followed him, "you will not
do anything about sending Margaret back?"
"Nothing, till you do, Daisy."
Arrived at home, the doctor made me drink a raw egg, and lie
down on Mrs. Sandford's sofa; and he sat down and looked at
me.
"You are the most troublesome patient that ever I had," said
he.
"I am?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. Quite innocently. You cannot help it, Daisy; and you
need not be troubled about it. It is all in the way of my
profession. It is as if a delicate vessel of Egyptian glass
were put to do the work of an iron smelting furnace; and I
have to think of all the possible bands and hardening
appliances 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 very
old."
The doctor gave me one of those quick, bright glances and
smiles, that were very pleasant to get from him and not very
common. There came a sort of glow and sparkle in his blue eye
then, 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 you
mean? Grant, I should like to hear you pay a compliment for
once."
"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 curious
patterns wrought in the glass, made, it is supposed, by the
fusing together of rods of glass, extremely minute, of
different colours; so that the pattern once formed was
ineffaceable and indestructible, unless by the destruction of
the vessel which contained it. Sometimes a layer of gold was
introduced between the layers of glass."
"How very curious!" said Mrs. Sandford.
"I think I must take you into consultation, Daisy," the doctor
went on, turning to me. "It is found, that there must be a
little delay before you can go up to take a look at Melbourne.
Mrs. Sandford is obliged to stop in New York with a sick
sister; how long she may be kept there it is impossible to
say. Now you would have a dull time, I am afraid; and I am in
doubt whether it would not be pleasanter for you to enter
school at once. In about three months the school term will end
and the summer vacation begin; by that time Mrs. Sandford will
be at home and the country ready to receive you. But you shall
do 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 me
all the Saturdays and Sundays and holidays. And if you like it
better, you shall be with me all the time; only I should be
obliged 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, or
then, 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 whole
the best plan. So it was arranged; that I should just wait a
day or two in New York to get my wardrobe in order and then
begin my school experience.
But my thoughts went back afterwards, more than once, to the
former conversation; and I wondered what it was about me that
made Dr. Sandford liken me to Egyptian glass.