Daisy In The Field - Page 209/231

But his look at me was so infinitely glad and sweet, that my

senses failed me again. I did not sink down; but I stood

without sight or hearing. The clasp of his hand recalled me.

"It is Daisy!" he said smiling. "Daisy, and not a vision. My

Daisy! How is it?"

"What can I do for you?" I said hastily.

"Nothing. Stand there. I have been looking at you; and thought

it was long till you would look at me."

"I was busy."

"Yes, I know, love. How is it, Daisy? When did you come back

from Switzerland?"

"Months ago."

"I did not know of it."

"Letters failed, I suppose."

"Then you wrote?"

"I wrote, - with papa's letter."

"When?"

"Oh, long ago - long ago; - I don't know, - a year or two."

"It never reached me," he said, a shadow crossing his bright

brow.

"I sent it to your aunt, for her to send it to you; and she

sent it; I asked her."

"Failed," he said. "What was it, Daisy?"

The question was put eagerly.

"Papa was very good," I said; - "and you were very right,

Christian, and I was wrong. He liked your letter."

"And I should have liked his?" he said, with one of those

brilliant illuminations of eye and face.

"I think you would."

"Then I have got all I can ask for," he said. "You are mine;

and while we live in this world we belong to each other. Is it

not so?"

There was mamma. But I could not speak of her. Even she could

not prevent the truth of what Christian said; in one way it

must be true. I gave no denial. Thorold clasped my hand very

fast, and I stood breathless. Then suddenly I asked if he had

had his breakfast? He laughed and said yes, and still clasped

my hand in a grasp that said it was better than food and drink

to him. I stood like one from under whose feet the ground is

slipping away. I longed to know, but dared not ask, what had

brought him there; whether he was suffering; the words would

not come to my lips. I knew Dr. Sandford would be here by and

by; how should I bear it? But I, and nobody but me, must do

all that was done for this sufferer at least.

I left Mr. Thorold, to attend to duties that called me on all

hands. I did them like one in a dream. Yet my ordinary manner

was quiet, and I suppose nobody saw any difference; only I

felt it. I was looking all the time for the moment of Dr.

Sandford's appearance, and praying for strength. It came, his

visit, as everything does come, when its time was; and I

followed him in his round; waiting and helping as there was

want of me. I did it coolly, I know, with faculties sharpened

by an intense motive and feelings engrossed with one thought.

I proved myself a good assistant; I knew Dr. Sandford approved

of me; I triumphed, so far, in the consciousness that I had

made good my claim to my position, and was in no danger of

being shoved away on the score of incompetency.