The day was a heavy one to Daisy and Juanita after that. The little
cottage was very silent. Daisy lay still, saying nothing, and generally
keeping her face turned towards the window so that her friend could not
see at; and when Mrs. Benoit proposed, as she several times did, to read
to Daisy or sing to her, she was always answered by a gentle, "No,
Juanita," which was as decided as it was gentle. The last time indeed,
Daisy had yielded and given assent to the proposition; but Mrs. Benoit
did not feel sure that she gave anything else; either attention or
approbation. Daisy's dinner she had prepared with particular care; but
it was not enjoyed; Mrs. Benoit knew that. She sighed to herself, and
then sang to herself, in a softly kind of way; Daisy gave no heed, and
only lay still with her face turned to the window. By and by, late in
the afternoon, the doctor came in. He was not a favourite of Mrs.
Benoit, but she was glad to see him now. She withdrew a little out of
the way and watched to see what he would say.
The doctor's first care as usual was the foot. That was going on well.
Having attended to that, he looked at Daisy's face. It did not seem to
him satisfactory, Mrs. Benoit saw; for his next move was to the head of
the couch, and he felt Daisy's hand, while his eyes studied her.
"How do you do to-day?"
"I am getting better," said Daisy.
"Are you? Your voice sounds weak to-night."
"I do not suppose I am very strong."
"How many wonderful things have you found to-day?"
"I have not thought about them--I have not found any."
Doctor Sandford bent a little over Daisy's couch, holding her hand still
and examining her.
"What is the matter, Daisy?" said he.
Daisy fidgeted. The doctor's fine blue eyes were too close to her and
too steady to be escaped from. Daisy turned her own eyes uneasily away,
then brought them back; she could not help it. He was waiting for her to
speak.
"Dr. Sandford," she said humbly, "won't you please excuse me?"
"Excuse you what, Daisy?"
"From telling you what you want to know."
"Pray why should I?"
"It is something that is quite private to myself."
If the doctor's lips remained perfectly still for some moments, it was
because they had a private inclination to smile, in which he would not
indulge them. Daisy saw nothing but the most moveless gravity.
"Private from all but your physician, Daisy," he said at last. "Do not
you know he is an exception to general rules?"
"Is he?" said Daisy.
"Certainly. I always become acquainted with people's private affairs."
"But I do not want that you should be acquainted with mine."
"No matter. You are under my care," said the doctor. Then after a minute
he added in a lower tone, "What have you been shedding tears about
to-day?"
Daisy's face looked intensely grave; wise and old beyond her days,
though the mouth was also sweet. So she faced the doctor and answered
him with the sedateness of fifty years--"I can't very well tell you, Dr.
Sandford."
"You have been shedding tears to-day?"
"Yes, sir--" said Daisy softly.
"A good many of them? You have been lying here with your face to the
window, crying quietly, a good part of the afternoon--have you not?"
"Yes, sir," said Daisy, wondering at him.
"Now I am your physician and must know what was the matter."
"It is something I cannot tell about, Dr. Sandford."
"Yes, Daisy, you are mistaken. Whatever concerns you, concerns me; if it
is the concern of nobody else. Were you tired of lying here so long, day
after day?"
"O no, sir! I don't mind that at all. I mean--I don't mind it at all
much."
"You do not?" said the doctor. "Have you lost a pet kitten, or a beloved
lap-dog?"
"I haven't any, either a kitten or a dog," said Daisy.
"Has that young cavalier, Preston Gary, neglected you?"
"He would not do that," said Daisy; "but he is very fond of shooting."
"He is!" said Dr. Sandford. "Most boys are. You have not felt lonely,
then, Daisy?"
"O no, sir."
"I believe I should, in your place. What is the matter, then? I ask as
your friend and physician; and you must tell me, Daisy. Who has been to
see you to-day?"
"Papa--he came and read to me. Then a little girl--and mamma."
"Did the little girl trouble you?"
"Not much--" said Daisy hesitatingly.
"In what way?"
"She only would not learn to read as fast as I wanted."
"You were the teacher?"
"Yes sir--I was trying--I wanted to teach her."
"And has her obduracy or stupidity caused all this sorrow and
annoyance?"
"O no, sir--" But Daisy's eyes filled.
"Then has Mrs. Randolph been the trouble-maker?"
Now Daisy flushed, her lip worked tremblingly; she turned her little
head to one side and laid her hand over her brow, to baffle those steady
blue eyes of the doctor's. But the doctor left the side of the couch and
took a step or two towards where Juanita was sitting.
"Mrs. Benoit," said he, "has this little patient of yours had her tea?"
"No, sir. His honour knows, it's early yet in the afternoon."
"Not so very. Do you mean she took enough for dinner to last her till
to-morrow?"
"No, sir; her dinner was little better than nothing."
"Then make a cup, in your best style, Mrs. Benoit--and perhaps you will
give me one. And have you got any more of those big raspberries for her?
bring them and a bit of toast."
While Juanita was gone on this business, which took a little time, the
doctor slowly paced back and forth through the small cottage room, with
his hands behind him and a thoughtful face. Daisy fancied he was
considering her affair; but she was very much mistaken; Dr. Sandford had
utterly forgotten her for the moment, and was pondering some difficult
professional business. When Juanita appeared with her tea tray, he came
out of his abstraction; and though still with a very unrelaxed face, he
arranged Daisy's pillows so that she might be raised up a little and
feel more comfortable. His hands were strong and skilful, and kind too;
there was a sort of pleasure in having them manage her; but Daisy looked
on with a little wonder to see him take the charge of being her servitor
in what came afterwards. He made her a cup of tea; let her taste it from
his hands; and gave the plate of raspberries into her own.
"Is it good?" he asked her.
"Very good!" Daisy said, with so gentle and reverential a look at him
that the doctor smiled. He said nothing however at present but to take
care that she had her supper; and looked meanwhile to see the colour of
Daisy's cheeks change a little, and the worn, wearied lines of her face
take a more natural form. His own ministrations were more effectual than
the eating and drinking; it was so very odd to have Dr. Sandford waiting
upon her that Daisy was diverted, and could not help it.
"Will you take some tea too, Dr. Sandford?" she said in the midst of
this. "Won't you take it now, while it is hot?"
"I take my tea cold, Daisy, thank you. I'll have it presently."
So he poured out his own cup and left it to cool while he attended to
Daisy; and when she would have no more, he took the cup from the tray
and sent Mrs. Benoit off with the rest of the things.
"Now Daisy," said he as he took away her bolstering pillows and laid her
nicely down again, "now, Daisy, I am your confidential friend and
physician, and I want to know what command Mrs. Randolph has given to
trouble you. It is my business to know, and you must tell me."
He was so cool about it, and so determined, that Daisy was staggered. He
stood holding her hand and waiting for her answer.
"Mamma--"
Daisy came to a great stop. The doctor waited.
"It was about the little girl."
"Very well. Go on, Daisy."
He took up his cup of tea now and began to sip it. Poor Daisy! She had
never been more bewildered in her life.
"What about the little girl?"
"Mamma--doesn't want me to teach her."
"Is it so favourite an amusement?"
"No, sir--" said Daisy hesitatingly.
"Was that all the trouble?"
"No, sir."
The doctor sipped his cup of tea and looked at Daisy. He did not say
anything more; yet his eyes so steadily waited for what further she had
to say, that Daisy fidgeted; like a fascinated creature, obliged to do
what it would not. She could not help looking into Dr. Sandford's face,
and she could not withstand what she saw there.
"Dr. Sandford," she began in her old-fashioned way, "you are asking me
what is private between my mother and me."
"Nothing is private from your physician, Daisy. I am not Dr. Sandford; I
am your physician."
"But you are Dr. Sandford to mamma."
"The business is entirely between you and me."
Daisy hesitated a little longer, but the power of fascination upon her
was irresistible.
"I was sorry not to teach the little girl," she said at length; "but I
was particularly troubled because--because--"
"Mrs. Randolph was displeased with your system of benevolence?"
"No--not that. Yes, I was troubled about that too. But what troubled me
most was--that mamma would not let me speak to her, to tell her why I
must not teach her. I must not say anything to her again, at all."
Dr. Sandford's eyes, looking, saw that Daisy had indeed spoken out her
trouble now. Such a cloud of sorrow came over her brow; such witnessing
redness about her eyelids, though Daisy let the witness of tears get no
further.
"What do you suppose was your mother's purpose in making that last
regulation?" he went on in a cool business tone.
"I don't know--I suppose to punish me,"--Daisy said faintly.
"Punish you for what?"
"Mamma did not like me to teach that little girl--and I had done it, I
mean I had begun to do it, without asking her."
"Was it a great pleasure?" said the doctor.
"It would have been a great pleasure if I could have taught her to
read," Daisy said, with her face brightening at the idea.
"I presume it would. Well Daisy, now you and I will arrange this affair.
I do not consider it wholesome for you to engage in this particular
amusement at this particular time; so I shall endorse Mrs. Randolph's
prohibition; but I will go round--Where does this girl live, and who is
she?"
"Her name is Hephzibah Harbonner; she lives in the village, on the road
where the Episcopal church is--you know;--a little way further on. I
guess it's a quarter of a mile."
"South, eh? Well, I will go round by her house and tell the girl that I
cannot let you do any such kindnesses just now, and that till I give her
leave she must not come to see you. How will that do, Daisy?"
"Thank you, Dr. Sandford!"
He saw it was very earnestly spoken and that Daisy's brow looked
clearer.
"And instead of that amusement, you must study wonderful things to
morrow. Will you?"
"O yes, Dr. Sandford! But we have not finished about the sun yet."
"No. Well--to-morrow, then, Daisy."
"Thank you, sir. Dr. Sandford, mamma wanted me to ask you a question
before you go."
"Ask it."
"How soon I can be moved home?"
"Are you in a great hurry?"
"No, sir, but I think mamma is."
"You can bear to wait a little longer and study wonderful things from
your window?"
"O yes, sir! I think I can do it better here than at home, because my
bed is so close to the window, I can look right out."
"I shall not let you be moved just yet, Daisy. Good night. I will
see--what's her name?"
"Harbonner--Hephzibah Harbonner."
"Good night."
And Daisy watched the doctor as he went down the path, mounted his horse
and rode away, with great admiration; thinking how handsome and how
clever and how chivalric he was. Daisy did not use that word in thinking
of him; nevertheless his skilful nursing and his taking up her cause so
effectually had made a great impression upon her. She was greatly
comforted. Juanita, watching her face, saw that it looked so; there was
even a dawning smile upon Daisy's lips at one time. It faded however
into a deep gravity; and one or two long drawn breaths told of heavy
thoughts.
"What troubles has my love?" said the old woman.
Daisy turned her head quick round from the window, and smiled a very
sweet smile in her face.
"I was thinking, Juanita."
"My little lady has a cloud come over her again."
"Yes, Juanita, I think I have. O Juanita, I might tell you! What shall I
do, when everybody wants me to do what--what I don't think is right?
What shall I do, Juanita? I don't know what I shall do."
"Suppose Miss Daisy take the Bible to her pa'--Miss Daisy knows what her
pa' promised."
"So he did, Juanita! thank you. I had forgotten that."
In five minutes more Daisy was fast asleep. The black woman stood
looking at her. There was no cloud on the little face now, but the signs
of the day's work were there. Pale cheeks, and weary features, and the
tokens of past tears. Juanita stood and looked, and twinkled away one
or two from her own eye-lashes; and then knelt down at the head of the
bed and began a whispered prayer. A prayer for the little child before
her, in which her heart poured itself out, that she might be kept from
evil, and might walk in the straight path, and never be tempted or
driven from it. Juanita's voice grew louder than a whisper in her
earnestness; but Daisy slept on.